


We Will Rise from Ashes

by RinzlersGhost



Series: From Ashes [1]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, No Beta, We Ride or Die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 30,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: No one knew what was supposed to come after Armageddon. It wasn’t written. A story without its storyteller soon collapses…
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/OC, Gabriel/OC, Michael/Oc
Series: From Ashes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057346
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. A. Z. Fell

The demons know all about falling. Every bit of Hell is the opposite of Heaven. They cannot run or hide from the incessant reminders that they are fallen. It has consumed almost every part of them… almost. There are those yet, who still have good hearts and good minds and cannot be swayed adversely by their Crown Princes. But there are those who have fully let the darkness consume them and they relish in it.

There were ways to fall. Rebellion was chiefly the most common way an angel fell. Curiosity was to be nipped in the bud, otherwise. Association with… fallen angels… could most certainly point an angel’s future downwards. General disobedience within ranks…

Angels were strict, almost militant. Angels had rules to follow. Angels were, as Crowley thought, uptight, insufferable bastards. Angels hadn’t fallen in centuries upon centuries. Angels began to think that they were immune to falling. Angels began to get bolder in their power.

Armageddon had come and been stopped in its tracks. Earth still spun on her axis. Crowley and Aziraphale were safe and their sides had been dealt with. Everything had been returned to normal… except that everything hadn’t. They just didn’t know it yet. 

No one knew what was supposed to come after Armageddon. It wasn’t written. A story without its storyteller soon collapses…

* * *

The book before her was blank. She’d written life onto Earth for thousands of years, bent and broken them to her will and her imaginative mind. Ourana, primordial goddess of the sky, exiled for turning her lover, Gaia, into a planet upon which to inflict her storytelling curse. Exiled… but not powerless.

From nothing, words and ideas. They could not take her power, only her home. They could not take her imagination, only her comfort. So to spite them, Ourana had given religion to Earth. She had made the gods of old be forgotten to dust and ashes. She had made herself God of all gods. 

And now the very life on Earth that she had created had rebelled against her. To put it rather bluntly, Ourana was pissed, and staring at the blank pages of a book she’d written in for centuries wasn’t helping. A dark storm cloud began to brew over her head as sinister thoughts crept more into her mind. They wanted to rebel? Fine, she’d show them what happened to the righteous for the sin of another.

* * *

*Red sky in the morning; sailors take warning*

* * *

Traditionally angels cast out of Heaven fell into Hell. It was a process, falling, and it consumed the angel and spit them back out a different person. Most who endured it did not come out whole.

Crowley woke to the sound of Aziraphale absolute breathtakingly screaming. His heart leapt in his chest as he threw off his blankets and bolted for the sound. He had heard the angel express many different sounds of pain and horror over the centuries, but nothing, no, nothing like this.

Crowley found the angel in the middle of his bookshop, no doubt readying for the day ahead, and the smell of blood and smoke met his nose before his eyes followed and he froze. Aziraphale’s hands were shaking, wet with blood, and his whole body trembling with the force of the pain that consumed him. It drove the angel to his knees in absolute agony. Fire consumed his wings from the top down, feathers crisping away into ash.

“How?” Crowley breathed, circling to face Aziraphale, pulling him close, ignoring the blood and soot that inevitably stained his shirt. His angel… threw arms around him, sobbing into his chest. “No, no, no, angel; it’s alright. We’ll set this right.” Crowley soothed, watching the last of Aziraphale’s white feathers melt into a sticky tar that pooled around them. How could this be happening?

* * *

But it wasn’t enough to make one angel fall. Ourana’s rage grew. She would have her Armageddon… with or without anyone else’s help.

* * *

What the others wouldn’t have, Aziraphale did—Crowley. The demon took painstakingly good care of his bare, bruised, and bloodied wings. The feathers would grow back, he soothed, but they wouldn’t come back white. The black webbing that was torn and tender confirmed that fact. 

Crowley wrapped his mate up in a warm blanket, preparing to ward off the initial sickness— the plagues (It was the only time he’d ever heard Beelzebub laugh and it was not a pleasant sensation)—that came with falling. And then he heard the horror, the multitude of screams, and every hair on his body stood on end. 

Crowley glanced outside to a red morning sky, seeing what looked like fire on the horizon. “What in the seven circles…?”

The roiling ball of fire hit the street outside with a force like an earthquake. It rocked the entirety of the bookshop. Crowley was pretty sure it rocked the whole city district. He steadied himself as the aftershocks set in.

“C-c-crowley… w-what’s hap-pening?” Aziraphale stuttered out, nesting in the quilt.

“I don’t know.” Crowley replied. “I… don’t… know.” As he opened the door to check outside, he was met with the smell of molten metal, of ash, and of burning flesh. “A moment, angel.”

He tucked his arms to himself and hurried through the masses of people too far gone to heal, their dying breaths of pain whispers on his heels. The closer he come to the glowing rock—was it a rock, he questioned—the hotter it became. Still he pressed on (he was a demon after all, and hellfire’s sting was worse than this), reaching the center to find… nothing. It was a roiling ball of fire with nothing at its center. A star, Crowley realized, a tiny star, but a star nonetheless.

Stars never just fell to the Earth. Stars had to explode and remnants could fall to the Earth. But this was a star and it burned everyone except him, because he knew it well, Proxima Centauri—the smallest of the Alpha Centauri system. He had placed it in the sky once—a very long time ago.

Crowley hurried back to the bookshop; the mere heat was beginning to make flames at Aziraphale’s sign. 

“We gotta go, angel.” Crowley murmured.

“B-but… the books.” Aziraphale protested weakly, barely able to stand by himself.

* * *

Rage festered. Even in Ourana’s exile, the storm could be seen from the peaks of Mount Olympus. Lines began to blur together. Ink stained fingers and blotted out pages. The planes of existence began to shift.


	2. The Angels Fall

Cassian held onto her tomes as a bitter, smoky wind howled down the streets of London. She was dodging people left and right as she made her way upstream through the crowd of surging people. She had seen Proxima falling, and known that it had landed near Aziraphale’s bookshop. The angel had to be okay; he had to be! She fought against the biting heat and pushed through blindly until her hands locked onto the door handle of A.Z. Fell and Co., pushing it open as Crowley started to come out with Aziraphale, tumbling into them both.

“Ouch!” She hissed, heaving the doors shut as she tried to shake away the burn from the handle.

“Cassian?” Aziraphale asked.

“Had to make sure you were okay.” Cassian muttered, dancing in place as she reached for her bag and using a slight healing spell on her own wounds with the wand she’d produced.

“You came through that blasted heat?” Crowley asked. “To check on us?”

“Course.” Cassian replied. “I saw Proxima falling. You’re gonna need someone like me.” Crowley’s eyes flickered to Aziraphale and back to Cassian. “There’s a story…” Cassian didn’t miss the glance and she shook her head. “Sorry you have to be a part of it.” She knelt to the ground, summoning a staff from the wand and drawing protection runes onto the floor.

“The quarrel of two lovers, well, it’s more like the abuse of one lover…” Cassian breathed a sigh of relief as the runes held and the fire hunting Aziraphale’s bookshop ebbed away. “One exiled for turning the other into a planet.” Cassian continued. “Saying that no one else was allowed to look upon such beauty. No one else was allowed to have such power as her. Mortals call the planet Earth, but we, the druids, still call her by her given name—Gaia.”

“She the spurned lover?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yes.” Cassian replied. Her eyes took in the severity of Aziraphale—his face flushed with the heat of fever, sweat glistening on his cheeks and neck, and beyond what he would show in good company, his wings, a bare, bloodied, swollen and tattered mess peeking out from underneath copper-stained bandages. Cassian frowned, deep lines etching into her face.

Crowley heard it first. A lower simpering growl started in Cassian’s chest. It startled him, at first, because humans were not capable of making such sounds. What had she called… ah, yes, a druid.

“And her abuser, the one in exile?” Crowley asked.

“Ourana. Primordial goddess of the sky. The Storyteller.” Cassian sighed heavily. “Your people call her God. El Shaddai. Adonai. Jehovah. Etcetera.”

“That’s impossible! You’re lying!” Aziraphale mustered a surprising amount of strength for the shout.

“Your god… your goddess… is an asshole, Aziraphale. The plan all along was to destroy Earth because Ourana hated that Gaia was primordial goddess of land. Ourana hated that her lover, her victim, had the same power to give and take away. So Ourana caged her inside the form of a planet and planned to destroy her all along!” Cassian snapped. “Believe what you want.” Cassian muttered. “Proxima falling only confirms it.”

“Why?” Crowley asked.

“Why indeed?” Cassian asked in reply. “You asked a certain angel to run away with you to Alpha Centauri? Well, it’s a binary system now, isn’t it?”

“Aziraphale’s wings, Proxima Centauri falling… she’s angry.” Crowley surmised.

“Not angry, Crowley. I’d venture to say at this point, Ourana is fucking livid. Armageddon was a chance for the world to tear itself apart and she didn’t even need to get her hands dirty. Now she had to get down and dirty with it. But now, oh now that the bit and bridle that reined her in is gone? Now? Now, we’re at her creative mercy. Now, she spares no one in her wrath.” 

Cassian shook her head. “Gaia created druids. Stewards to take care of her and the life she’d made on Earth. Ourana created angels… and then created demons, and pitted them against each other from the very beginning. Chaos versus tranquility.”

“I don’t… I don’t believe you!” Aziraphale threw the quilt off his shoulders. He didn’t make it far before Crowley caught him, knees weak and strength sapped. 

Cassian looked on him sadly. “There are other people who need my help. Believe what you want, Aziraphale; it won’t change the facts. You’re lucky you have Crowley. Who will the other angels have?”

* * *

Ink turned to blood as the quill ran low, new dark realities being willed into existence.

* * *

Gabriel was deep in the highest tiers of Heaven with the other Archangels. They had just tabled discussing the end of the world and the conundrum that followed afterwards. Nothing was writ; what were they supposed to do?

Gabriel returned to his offices, the last one left in the elevator, in one of the highest wards. Every hair on his body stood on end. The lobby was filled with smoke and ash, fire licking at the floor. Where there was supposed to be the quiet chatter of their jobs, Gabriel heard nothing but screams and the hiss and crackle of fire burning, consuming. White feathers were blackened with soot, melting into a tar beneath his feet that vaguely smelled of sulfur. 

The fire didn’t consume him as he moved through it, calling out the names of his fellow angels but receiving nothing in return but deafening silence. Then, through the smoke, he saw a light and pushed through to it. The edge gave way beneath his feet, and Gabriel gasped, barely grabbing on to the ledge as he looked to the scene in dismay.

Heaven was on fire and crumbling. Every way that led out of fire and smoke was a trap, and angels were falling from Heaven to the Earth below. Their wings were turning black with the fall as they burned like meteors entering the atmosphere.

“Adon Adonai Tseva’ot… why?” Gabriel asked.

* * *

RAGE. FURY. WRATH. INJUSTICE. JEALOUSY. HATRED. 

Ourana heard his cry and lashed out at him with everything in her arsenal.

* * *

The blade of a scythe gutted him through, protruding from the side of the cliff. It came with enough force to lift him from the side of the cliff, his hands grappling for something and coming up with air.

Ourana emerged, if only briefly, to show her true face to Gabriel. “You and your lot of angels…” She hissed, showing her darkest side—a hulking, ominous figure shrouded in black, appearing almost spider-like with the hooked scythe-bladed appendage through Gabriel’s stomach, dangling him like hanging prey. “You are WORTHLESS!”

When she turned and shook him off, he fell, too shocked to fly. Blood streaming, flecking his face, his suit, Gabriel plummeted down to Earth. His feathers burned into ash, the heat of the fall tearing holes in the webbing. Gabriel, the last to fall, the last to see Heaven and see the monster who had created it, who had destroyed it, fell to Earth.

* * *

*Ashes, ashes, we all fall down... to Earth*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adon Adonai Tseva’ot- Translates to The Lord YHVH of hosts


	3. Gaia's Druids Convene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Three Elder Druids: Cassian Andreas, Nicolae Masters, Addison Keenan. Druids were spawned by Gaia in the very beginning. Purpose was to take care of the garden, especially when the humans had left. They are sentient creatures that know how to make human forms for themselves to avoid detection by Ourana’s angels and demons. It's important to know that Cassian's alliance is neutral, Nicolae's alliance is demonic, and Addison's alliance is angelic.]

*Who run the world? Girls! We run this motha!*

* * *

Cassian’s current headquarters were a nondescript apartment building in central London that no one would have ever suspected. Nicolae was there by the time she made her way back, having picked through the rubble of Proxima to ease the suffering of those she knew would not survive.

“You look like Hell. I take it you were in proximity of the blast?” Nicolae asked.

“Oh, hello, good to see you too, Nico.” Cassian muttered sarcastically. The other druid just scoffed. When it was clear she wasn’t going to get a greeting, “Yeah, I picked my way through disaster central. Aziraphale... you remember, Aziraphale?”

“Principality of Bookshops.” Nicolae replied.

“Yeah, his shop was more or less in that direction. I cast a protection spell on it.”

“Close, are you?” Nicolae asked.

“Closer to Aziraphale and Crowley than you are to Crowley’s Crown Prince. I have... we have been in the same areas coincidentally more than once.” Cassian replied. 

“Closeness is a matter of... opinion.” Nicolae murmured, flashing her a smirk.

“You came alone?” Cassian asked. 

“They... oh, you are talking about druidic allies. Yes, I am here alone, but always in communication with my legions. They are saying that angels and stars are falling from the skies. They’ve rallied but... flying is not an easy gift.” Nicolae’s expression turned serious.

“I understand.” Cassian replied. “We’ll need active shelters in place, and teams of healers to staff each one. We’ll bring in Addison; her garrison would help out too.”

“And of the gods?” Nicolae asked. “The gods exiled Ourana. We can do nothing but defend Gaia. The gods...” She warned.

“We have not the time or place to be invoking the gods of old. We have little more pressing problem? Stars, angels-- falling from the sky?”

“Words you may live to regret.” Nicolae replied. 

“Let us gather first, before we begin an invocation. Prayers may be heard better with a multitude of voices.”

“Always the mediator, Andreas...” Nicolae murmured, turning away to find a private place to communicate in meditation with her Legates. 

“Masters...” Cassian started. “The demons. Hell. Did it... burn?” Nicolae turned back, her expression neutral. Such a delicate topic. They weren’t supposed to take sides, but they all had a side, Nicolae with the demons, Addison with the angels, and Cassian with Aziraphale and Crowley, ever the neutral balance.

“I wouldn’t really call it Hell burning. If Heaven is above us, Earth the middle ground, and Hell beneath us, then it’s more or less Hell collapsing in on itself.”

“Injured?”

“Yeah, there were a lot.” Nicolae said. “It was... chaos. Beelzebub and Dagon are probably still... pulling people out.”

“Had to make sure your demon was safe, didn’t you?” Cassian asked.

“You telling me not to be attached is rich, Cassian. You put a protection rune on Aziraphale’s bookshop.” Nicolae muttered.

“Runes. Proxima landed right outside. What was I supposed to do? Let it burn down?”

“You’re the neutral one, Cassian. You chose that life, remember? Anyone else would have let nature take its course.”

“If you haven’t noticed, a freaking star fell out of the sky! That’s letting nature take its course?! No, that’s the wrath of an angry god taking it out on the planet her victim is caged inside, knowing that everything that affects the cage, will also hurt the person caged inside of it.” Cassian retorted. “And I’m not the only neutral one. Addy...”

“You don’t know shit about Addison!” Nicolae snapped.

“I know more than you do.” Cassian replied. “I know that she fell in love with an angel and they couldn’t reciprocate, bound by their laws, so she went into isolation and stopped communing with any kind of human or humanoid.”

“Well, proves that demons have more fun, I guess.” Nicolae replied, defeated, leaving to Cassian’s spare bedroom to slip into meditative communication.

“Wow.” Addison unfolded herself from Cassian’s armchair. “For longest time, yes. But then... the fates shifted. Tyche, the winds of favor and fate, helped me to regain my strength, and my strength is in numbers. I may have shunned contact for thousands of years but I can assure you that my head is on straight and I have gathered hundreds, if not thousands, under my wings.” Addison stood, hanging her brown fur coat on Cassian’s coat rack. “Now isn’t the time to be bickering amongst ourselves. Now is the time we have waited centuries for. Now is the time we must defend ourselves, for war is looming on our horizons. Here.” Addison withdrew a sword, gleaming bright in the smoky haze that surrounded them.

“Made from Damascus steel using a technique long forgotten. Honed and polished with bone and blood.” Addison murmured. “Blessed by Gaia. From her, everything. Without her, nothing.”

“Addy, you’re too kind.” Cassian murmured, taking the sword from her. “I presume that you have a battle plan then.”

“Would I give you anything less?” Addison asked. “It’s good to be together in the same place again, sister, though I have no doubt it won’t last.”


	4. Rescuing Gabriel (Part 1)

_ Gabriel, the voice of God, the messenger of God, Gabriel, the Archangel, the Cherubim _ . Such thoughts fluttered through his mind as he felt his back burning with the heat caused by entering Earth’s atmosphere from such a high place. He couldn’t even roll to face his imminent impact with the ground head on. He squeezed his eyes shut; maybe he could pretend that this wasn’t happening. Maybe it would go away. Maybe he could forget that the dark sinister presence that had rammed him through like the practices he’d once seen in ancient Rome for sacrificing animals to the pagan gods, maybe he could forget that that same presence was the Adonai, the El Shaddai, the Elohim he’d known-- that he’d sat and communed with every day for all eternity! Her presence was unmistakable. Where generosity and kindness had once sat, there was darkness and malice.

Tears he didn’t know he could spill flecked his cheeks as his form hurtled through the sky. Gabriel braced for impact as scenery began to rush past him, but the impact he was expecting never came. He expected to land in rock and brush; he landed in feathery down and nearly bounced off, grabbing onto the feathers at the last possible second and pulling himself up as he felt a squawk beneath him.

One beady golden eye of a griffin looked back to him in absolute disdain as flight feathers fell and curved her path into a tree. “Oof!” He let go to land in rock and brush, as he had originally thought, crunching to the ground. Gabriel tried to pick himself up, tried to stand, but was lurched back to the ground as his body refused to obey him and screeching pain rocketed through his stomach and chest. That cry... couldn’t have been his, could it?

“Elkyan!” The voice sounded so loud, so grating, when all Gabriel wanted was silence, and a place to bide his pain. A pair of hands grabbed him underneath his arms and dragged him from underneath the bushes. “Elkyan, he’s wounded!” Gabriel briefly opened his eyes to get a glimpse of who had him only to look up into the face of bleeding mortal. Blood was streaming down from her nose and half her face was torn raw, but still she pressed on.

“You’re bleeding, Indigo.” Gabriel had to guess that the other face that appeared in his vision was the one called Elkyan.

“Trifles. Hit a tree.” She continued to drag him into a clearing. “Told you a thousand times, call me Indi.” She frowned as Elkyan laid out a cot for him in a tent, where half a dozen other tents were, full of burned and bloodied angels. “What now, Legate?”

Elkyan knelt to Gabriel’s side, tearing the shirt away with brute force and frowning. It wasn’t just blood; it was ichor too.

“Damn. It’s ichor.” Elkyan muttered under her breath.

“Care to elaborate?” Indi asked.

“Requires an angel or a demon to heal.” Elkyan grit her teeth. “Not that most angels are in the state to heal, and most demons won’t come ten feet of him. Archangel. Cherubim. Gabriel.”

“You know him?”

“I know of him.” Elkyan replied. “Addison was very clear, and it seems hold true enough. The lesser angels were lesser injured. The archangels, the cherubim, the seraphim, all the ranks... they bear much more significant injuries. But he is bleeding ichor. He needs help that we can’t provide. Are you still fit to fly?”

“Fit as I’ll ever be.” Indi murmured. “Where should I go? Where can I go?”

“Soho, London.”

“What?!” Gabriel protested this. “You... you can’t! I can’t... I can’t go back there!” Elkyan ignored him.

“Cassian, Addison, Nicolae, they’ve set up headquarters in Aziraphale’s bookshop in Soho. Addison will probably get you as close to communing with the gods as possible. We may need their help.” Elkyan murmured. She glanced down on him. “You’re still conscious.”

“How can I not be, given what I saw?” Gabriel asked.

“Your wound...” Elkyan cleaned what she could, and bound it together tightly. Gabriel winced. “It’s been inflicted by the goddess Ourana. It won’t be easy to heal. You may need more than just the healing of your brethren. Take a litter, Indigo.”

“Indi, the love of the gods!” She corrected.

“He’s not the only one out there.” Elkyan murmured. “But his wound is more urgent.” She proceeded to build the litter from sticks and cloth lashed together and nestled Gabriel tightly within it, covering him with heavy soaked furs to survive the heat. Indi moved into her griffon form, letting Elkyan lash the thick ropes to her talons and together they moved outside, Indi taking flight.


	5. Rescuing Gabriel (Part 2)

Smoke was hazy around Earth. What little bit Gabriel could see of it anyways. Elkyan had wrapped his mouth all the way up to his eyes, and the thick water soaked furs weighed him down well. Fire scorched at her wings but she ignored it, flying, and dodging around fireballs that burst from the sky at unexpected and random intervals.

So this was what Armageddon would have been like on Earth. All would have been consumed by fire and ash. He couldn’t say it was pleasant. He wondered if Armageddon had happened, would these valiant defenders also been there to help and heal?

Indi touched down in central Soho, ignoring the flames and diving straight through them. Wrapping one of the heavy wet furs around herself, she grabbed the litter and pulled it through the streets, breaking open the barricaded door of A. Z. Fell and Co. with her shoulder and pulling Gabriel though, shutting the door behind her again. She let her breath go all in one whoosh, coughing and wiping her face off. 

“Hot out there.” Indi murmured. “Legate Elkyan sent me.”

“I received word that she had sent someone our direction...” Addison gracefully swept into the hull of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the center floor. “But I hardly dared to believe that anyone would walk through those fires.”

“I flew most of them, Elder Addison.” Indi replied.

“So you have the gift that allows you to fly. Not many do. You must be a valuable part to Legate Elkyan’s garrison.” Addison murmured. “Catching those who fall...” Her eyes drifted to the litter. “You brought wounded.”

“I brought one. Legate Elkyan says his wound was made by the goddess Ourana.” Indi knelt to unwrap Gabriel, lifting the heavy furs from off of him. He had lost some of his color in the journey, his chest rising and falling in shallow pants, skin sallow. His hands were pressed against his wound, blood and ichor seeping between his fingers.

Crowley leaned over the railing. The three Elder Druids had taken over most of Aziraphale’s bookshops, relegating them to the upstairs storage room that Crowley had made a makeshift bedroom to tend to Aziraphale.

“Gabriel.” He murmured. Indi glanced up. 

“Yes, that is what she called him. You know him?” Indi asked. Crowley frowned, closing the door to the bedroom and leaping over the railing. 

“I do. He’s a bully and a prat... but I don’t think he deserved this.” Crowley murmured, kneeling to Gabriel’s side. Hesitantly, he picked up Gabriel’s hand to find it cold and limp. Crowley’s frown deepened as he unwrapped the bandages from around Gabriel’s wound to find a gash that tore the angel clean through. “Hells.” Crowley swore, groaning and running his free hand through his hair. “I do this, and you keep the bastard away from me. Nothing I’d like to do more than punch your smug face in, Gabriel.” Crowley said icily. “I owe you that much just for the degrading things you’ve said to Aziraphale, never mind what else you’ve done.”

“Hey.” Indi pressed her hand into Crowley’s arm. “No one asked you to. If you can’t do it with a clear conscience...”

“But he’s...” Crowley replied.

“Dying?” Indi finished. “Does this not fall under immoral touch?”

“I don’t follow you.” Crowley murmured.

“Immoral touch-- touch without consent, touch meant with malice-- this can have devastatingly ill effects on those of the druidic faith.” Addison supplied. “He isn’t druidic, Indigo.”

“Indi.” She corrected. “And my point still stands. Even in humans healing can be rejected.”

“And what options are there otherwise?” Cassian asked.

“Apollo.” Indi murmured.

“Not with the gods again.” Cassian muttered. Nicolae crossed her arms, chuckling. 

“Don’t say I never warned you.” Nicolae murmured. “Can you, tiny druid still young in your faith, call upon Apollo, to be making that kind of suggestion?”

“Did you think I would have suggested it idly?” Indi asked. She placed her hand on the ground, summoning a staff from the wood flooring of Aziraphale’s bookshop. Within its open orb, she placed a dark golden crystal and power surged through the bookshop. Hands on the staff, she bared skin on Gabriel’s hip, burning a medieval rune pair, Sol and Ul, into his skin via the glowing end of the staff. Gabriel shifted in discomfort, sounds of pain slipping through his lips, as his wound closed back together. She wasn’t quite powerful enough to heal his blood loss, or his more superficial wounds but for that brief moment, that brief snap of power closed the wound that had rammed him through. 

Drained, Indi set the staff down. That had been the last of her reserved power, and she’d been carefully storing it since her ascension into the druidic faith. The runes healed with a golden glow, a mark of where her power had channeled into him. Crowley was stumped; he had known there were other faiths that practiced magic but had never seen anyone practice it successfully. But that, that was something else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.therunesite.com/medieval-runes-of-healing-and-magick-rune-meanings/
> 
> I used Sol and Ul runes from this website.


	6. The Druid Elders' Decision

Indi sat on the floor, cross-legged, entering into a meditative trance immediately, slumping over in exhaustion. The sallow tint to Gabriel’s skin remained, but it didn’t get any worse.

“Druidry under Apollo. The path all healers should take.” Nicolae murmured, moving a full bookcase to make room for more beds, lifting Gabriel from floor effortlessly, removing the wet furs to wrap him in a warm blanket. “So you are Gabriel.” She tilted her head to the side in interest. “Curious.” 

“What do  _ you _ know of him?” Cassian asked. Nicolae scoffed.

“Why do you always accuse?”

“That’s enough!” Addison’s voice cut the room. “Gabriel. Archangel. Cherubim. Messenger and Voice of God. Sat with his God daily throughout all eternity. I knew of him. Crowley’s not wrong. He’s a prat and a bully. And the god he loved, he worshipped for all eternity just rammed him through like an animal sacrifice. So whatever ill intent you’ve got for him, you can just keep to yourself!” Addison snapped. “Leave him alone. Cassian, Nicolae, quit bickering.”

She lent a hand to Indi, slipping the prone, bowed over figure some of her strength. But as she suspected, the small druid was exhausted. “We cannot ask this of our people. We must form ranks and lead them into battle as a cohesive unit. We must convene to call upon our gods.” Addison murmured. “She’s so young, trained right, but still so young to be channeling that kind of power through her. Mere will to push on brought her and Gabriel into our clutches.” Addison healed the broken nose and brush burned cheek with the touch of her hand, smoothing away the scorched and singed hair, and soothing the heat of burn with a cool stream of green light.

Still the scars on her face remained. The injuries hadn’t been immediately touched to heal. Addison frowned; this young druid had sacrificed so much to bring Gabriel here. Only hope could save her from a darker path as much power as she could channel.

“We must free Gaia.” Addison murmured. She could feel Cassian and Nicolae’s eyes snap to her.

“Addison...” Cassian trailed off, as the white-haired druid elder held up her hand. 

“We must leave a better Earth for our generations. We must come together and free Gaia.”

“What you are asking...” Nicolae frowned, an unsettled feeling in her stomach.

“We knew the end to our time would come eventually.” Addison murmured. “We have lived for thousands of years. We were in the garden before the angel Aziraphale was ever created. We were in the garden before demon Crowley ever fell. Our time is coming to an end; our generations know the old ways. What is there left to do but see to it that there is an Earth left for them to be stewards of?”

“But...” Nicolae stammered. But in her heart, she knew it was the right thing to do.

“You may want to say goodbye.” Addison murmured.

“It would be better if they didn’t know.” Nicolae said lowly. “I can’t... walk away from them. If it means a better future for them, then I’ll do it, but please don’t make me say goodbye.” She hastily pressed a folded origami scarab beetle, just under the cover of a colorful book and shelved it carefully. Addison stood, smiling sadly. Cassian’s expression was blank, giving Crowley a measured look.

“Indigo and Gabriel are likely to be weakened for a significant amount of time. Uh... we won’t be coming back, so uh... just tell Aziraphale that I... never meant him any ill will. You two are both near and dear to me, Crowley, but Addison’s right. What good is being druid if there is no Earth to take care of?”

“What are you going to do?” Crowley asked.

“We’ll uh... draw on the power of our people combined and use our bodies to release Gaia from the prison of Earth.” Cassian said. “We won’t come back from it. If a very sad demon, and a very sad angel show up here, well...”

“What do you lose?” Crowley asked.

“What indeed, darling boy?” Cassian murmured. “I lose my friendship with two of the most amazing creatures I’ve ever dared meet.” Her eyes were sad and her voice trembled. “But I can understand why they,” She gestured to Nicolae and Addison. “Won’t say goodbye. Because Crowley, oh Crowley,” She pressed her forehead against his. “I will miss you both.”

Cassian stepped back before the tears could fall, giving him a small smile, taking hands with her sisters and opening the door of the bookshop to step into the open flames that threatened to swallow everything around them.

* * *

With that, they were gone, and the bookshop was quiet. Crowley frowned. No, nothing between him, Aziraphale, and Cassian had ever been romantic, but she had been a shoulder to lean on when they hadn’t had the other. They wouldn’t be coming back? Curious, Crowley checked the book. It wasn’t one Aziraphale kept. It was a scale bound book that shimmered under the light and it wouldn’t open for him. Had the other druid, had Addison left something behind too?

But Crowley found no such evidence of such a thing. Hand pressed to his chest, he glanced out the window where the skies were still alight with fire and swallowed hard. He had a feeling that Cassian was about to sacrifice herself to make sure that they all survived. He didn’t know how right he was. 


	7. The Sacrifice

Already the druid legions were beginning to center together, masses of people coming together led by their Legate Captains: Elkyan of Addison’s Order, Jacey of Nicolae’s Order, and Preston of Cassian’s Order.

Addison searched the tents of wounded and injured until she found who she was looking for. A grey-maned angel with a broken wing still tended to the others. “Tzadkiel.” He smiled softly at her approach. 

“Hello, Addison. I would say fancy seeing you here, but your people always do come out when there’s a mass casualty, don’t they?” He whispered softly.

“I wish it didn’t have to be that way.” Addison replied, kneeling to help him pour out healing power into the angel beneath his fingertips. Their hands brushed just barely. “I don’t have long to stay. Our fates... once intertwined, but never conjoined.”

“Do as you must.” Tzadkiel murmured. “You won’t hear me say it again, Addy, so listen well. Raise hell for me, darling.” Addison cupped his cheek in her hand, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

_ “I love you.” _

_ “And I you.” _ He replied as she made her way from the tent, joining Cassian and Nicolae in the center of thousands upon thousands of druids, drawn away from their healing and their search and rescue to push every bit of power they could into their Elders in order to break the chains that held Gaia down.

“I am ready.” Addison’s voice no longer trembled. “I have made my peace with this world. It is time.” Nicolae nodded to her as they joined hands together, met with the hands of their captains on their shoulders as they knelt together in a circle.

“We come before everyone today as the Elders who raised Legate Captains Elkyan, Jacey, and Preston. We come before everyone today to do what no one has ever done before-- to release our Mother Gaia from Earth as it is a cage that binds her. We cannot fight without her; we can only protect this shell that she has provided. With her release from prison, you can have a cause to rally behind. With Gaia unleashed, there will be no more wrath on Earth.” Addison’s voice trembled but steadied as her sisters echoed her in chorus.

“We ask that you lend us your strength, lend us your power, lend us the name of the gods you draw from. Lend to us the strength of Apollo and Ares. Lend to us the wisdom of Tyche and Athena. Lend to us the swiftness of Hermes and the fury of Hera. Lend to us the power that Gaia has given to you!” 

Cassian couldn’t lie. The power that pulsed through them was excruciating. It was as if someone had taken the sun and beamed it straight down on them; that’s just how intense the light and heat of it was. She could feel the Earth beginning to crack beneath them, bright, bright light shining through, as if Gaia could sense the weakness there and was pushing at it. Bringing forth decades of power, she felt her skin being ripped away and heat consuming her as one chain binding Gaia snapped. She was no longer human, or humanoid, but a bright ball of burning light, and oh how it stung!

In that single moment, she felt every bit of power that coursed through her. She felt every cry of anguish from the angels, from the demons, from the humans who were suffering on Earth. And she looked on her sisters, burning so bright, with teeth bared as they endured the pain and took it on their shoulders, breaking the chains that bound Gaia to Earth, becoming a never ending ring of light that made daylight seem like night. That was the moment that Cassian knew it was over. Their bodies were consumed to ash, and Gaia was breaking through the Earth to ascend through the ring they had created, freeing her spirit. She closed her eyes one last time, thinking of Aziraphale and Crowley, and smiled mentally, letting her spirit pass on to the stars beyond. 


	8. The Death of God

Together, they were with their Mother as she stormed to the exile of the Olympus plane, and nothing that got in her way could stand the fury of the Mother’s Wrath.

“It has gone on long enough, Ourana.” Gaia said angrily, hands on her hips as she stood at the crest of the solitary peak. “You are torturing your creations.”

“They rebelled.” Ourana answered plainly. “They disobeyed. They get what they deserve.”

“If this is the ending you have chosen, I won’t stand for it!” Gaia retorted.

“Oh?” Ourana’s voice was eerily calm. “You and what army?”

“I don’t need an army.” Gaia replied. “I just need people to believe in me, and banishing your angels from the only home they ever knew was your mistake.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You have no allies. The demons you made had come to despise you and the angels know that you turned your back on them. You have no one left.”

“I have you.” Ourana replied.

“Not any longer.” Gaia replied, taking the cords, the chains that had once bound them together and breaking them apart, shattering the bonds that held their relationship together into millions of pieces, into new stars that began to dot the sky.

“For too long you have kept me under lock and key to play games with your angels and your demons and your humans. You have taught them hate and hatred, malice, and jealousy. You have taught them the heavy hand of judgment and you are not capable of mercy when you are at war.”

“They don’t deserve mercy.”

_ “You _ don’t deserve mercy.” Gaia stepped forward. “So I hope you’ve not come to expect it from me.”

“I doubt your personality has changed over the course of the years in that prison, Gaia.” Ourana murmured blandly. “You couldn’t commit crimes against your people if you tried. It takes a real goddess to be able to turn to wrath and rage in the blink of an eye.”

“No.” Gaia growled, leaping forward and bringing Addison’s sword down on Ourana’s writing desk, splitting it clean in half. “It takes a real goddess to fight for her people, to clean up after her messes. It takes a real goddess to love the children that aren’t her own.” She grabbed the book that Ourana had forever written in and cast it back to Earth through the ring. “Now all your children will know who you were, really and truly.” 

Ourana finally stood, her spindly spider like body unfolding to meet Gaia in all her wrath. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“Nerve? You’ve got gall, Ourana, to even try to fight.” Gaia pulled the sword from the writing desk, leveling it at Ourana’s throat, the fine point of the sword just barely cutting into the skin. “I’d take you before the gods but I doubt that their wrath would satiate me.” Ourana just chuckled.

“You forget, Gaia. Storytelling is my gift. It’s not hard, you see; I don’t even have to fight you.” Ourana pressed into the blade just a little farther, enough to open up a stream of blood right down her middle. It pooled onto the ground and a spindly spider leg wrote words into existence. 

I, Ourana, primordial goddess of the sky, do hereby renounce my name as Adon...

Gaia took a step forward, twisting the sword into Ourana’s chest, pinning her to the great oaken tree that had stood behind her for forever. “You think that writing yourself out of existence is an option? No, you are not going to get away that easily!” Within half a second, she’d pulled the sword out and cleanly sliced the tree away, beheading her once lover. It wasn’t long before the body withered and dissolved into ash on the wind. Gaia hardly realized that she was trembling until the sword fell from her hands and clattered in the oddly empty silence. It was finished, and for the first time in a long time, Gaia wept.

* * *

Crowley started in surprise as rolling thunder shook the bookshop and the floodgates of the heavens opened, pouring out rain. Indi stirred briefly from her dazed stupor of a meditation, looking to the grey skies outside that puddled down rain in gushing torrents, turning the fiery red of the horizon in a muddled smoke that rose to the skies.

“It’s over.” Her voice was raw, still burned with soot and ash from breathing it in and she coughed until she could barely breathe. “They finished it.”

“What did they do?” Crowley asked.

“The Elders released Gaia from the prison of Earth. Gaia went on to end Ourana’s existence. She will now compensate for both land and sky. Now, she weeps. She mourns for Ourana’s people. She mourns for everything you suffered. She can’t undo it, but she can make sure it never happens again.” Indi murmured, still weakened.

“So they’re... gone?” Crowley asked.

“Yes. They used themselves as a mean to channel all druidic power in order to break the chains that bound Gaia in her prison.” Crowley frowned.

“So Cassian is... gone.”

“Those of her Order will find her in the skies no doubt.” Indi whispered. “As I will find Elder Addison there eventually as well. But for now...” She pulled on the blankets of one of the cots to wrap it around herself, soaking in the warmth of it. “How fares your angel? Is he ill?”

“Yes. He succumbed to the plagues when he fell. He’s feverish, but pulling through.” Crowley replied. “You... channeled Apollo? That makes you a healer?”

“Yes, a healer.” Indi replied. “Not much of one, still learning.”

“What you did to Gabriel... I don’t think that was nothing.” Crowley crouched near her. “Your Elder tried to heal you, but wasn’t able to completely take care of everything.” He reached out to touch her face and she shied away. 

“I think it best if you don’t.” Indi murmured.

“I don’t intend to hurt you.” Crowley replied. “I could heal your face.”

“No, I don’t trust you. Leave me alone.” Indi murmured, pulling the blanket close and huddling close to Gabriel’s prone form.


	9. Author's Note (ON HIATUS)

Hi y'all.  
I just wanted to pop in with an author's note to tell you a little bit about what's been going on/why I haven't been updating on a regular schedule.  
I'll preface with this: this story is actually finished. I have written the entire draft, and have almost completed the bits and pieces that I'm not going to include in the actual work, but tag as like side stories or something like that. Those are chapters that I felt would detract from the work as a whole, and I wanted you guys to have them but not as a part of the main work.  
That being said, I still have to edit and upload my chapters into AO3. It's a little bit time consuming, but that isn't the reason that I've been having issues with uploading and publishing my chapters.  
Truthfully, I work anywhere between 50 and 60 hours a week, and intentionally don't upload on the weekends so I can let my weekends be my rest days. January and February have been pretty tough on me, and I just haven't had the energy to keep working with this particular fic in a while. I say that I can always tell when my depression is hitting me the hardest when I just don't have the energy to work on writing at all or when I have severe writer's block. I've also dedicated my time to another WIP which has been taking up a majority of my time. It probably doesn't seem fair to you (my readers) that I do this, but honestly, I do have trouble letting go of my works sometimes.  
Saying goodbye to this fic as I finished writing it, especially with an ending that I wasn't necessarily thrilled about but worked well, has been difficult. I like to think I go through phases where I get really intense in one fandom and right now that fandom isn't Good Omens. I am doing my best to get back on track with updating, but right now, the way I cope with my depression and my anxiety, is by clinging to another fandom.  
Until further notice, this fic is on hiatus.  
My most sincere apologies,  
RinzlersGhost


	10. Aftermath

Tzadkiel looked to the burned rings on the ground and what had been left behind-- mostly piles of ashes but beneath them, items that glimmered dully as rain began to wash away the dirt and dust. He knelt, unearthing the items that shone-- where Cassian had once stood, leather-bound books bound tightly with a golden latch, where Nicolae had once stood, a golden crown, multi-colored gems shining in a myriad of colors, and where Addison had once stood, a golden ring. Tzadkiel picked it up, rubbing the dirt off of it and letting the rain trickle down it.  
When he slipped it on, it fit perfectly. Only then, only fallen could he understand what it meant to bind oneself to another for life. Only then did he know the depths of Addison’s love and what it meant to sacrifice oneself for the sake of someone they loved. Only then did he mourn, wings showing with the force of the emotion of it all, broken one included.  
The cry that erupted from his mouth startled everyone, but all the angels felt it. Tzadkiel buried his hands in his hair and sank to the ground, his form prostrate as the immensity of it all finally overwhelmed him. She was gone; she had sacrificed herself so that they might live. Anguish heaved his shoulders as he cried bitterly.  
_Take me! Take me instead!_ His mental cry echoed in everyone’s mind; those who had their hands on angels felt it instead. He stayed there, letting the rain soak him to the bone until he could cry no more.  
“Tzadkiel.” A hand made its way to his shoulder.  
“Leave me!” He growled out ferally, baring his teeth when he looked over his shoulder to find Michael standing there.  
“Tzadkiel, you must move on.”  
“ _Must_? I _must_ do nothing. You’re not the boss of me, Michael!” Tzadkiel replied. “Leave me! You never knew of that which God forbade of you. At least some of us were not blind enough to know that a world existed beyond the Heavens!” He snapped.  
“You’re an archangel.” Michael tried to console him.  
“So was Raphael but he was cast out, wasn’t he?!” Tzadkiel hissed. “I said enough is enough, Michael.”  
“We are meant to bind together in this trying time! Come, take sup with...”  
“No.” Tzadkiel grit his teeth together and forced the word out. “Come, take sup with me and the other archangels? Where is Gabriel? Did you see him when he fell?”  
“Gabriel is Gabriel. Gabriel is the Voice of God. Gabriel will find his way to us.” Tzadkiel snarled, finally standing and whirling on Michael.  
“You really didn’t see what She did to him, did you? Or are you really so willingly ignorant that you just refuse to believe what happened?” He pushed the other archangel back. “She gutted him like a wild boar, Michael. She never cared about him... or any of us. Heaven is gone. Hell is probably gone. And how many of us are dying because of it?!”  
“This must be the plan. We must...”  
“Persevere? You’ve lost your mind, Michael!” Tzadkiel winced as his wings flexed with the heat of emotions running through him. “A mortal rescued him. His wound was serious. If he made it through the fire which she carried him through, he’ll be lucky to survive! It’s over. Addy always told me that there was more to the story of God and I loved the tales she used to spin me, thinking it was just the human imagination, but oh, it was so much more than that. It was real and I was too blind to see what was in front of my face. Now, if you still want to believe in your delusions, go right on ahead, but you,” He stuck his finger in her face threateningly. “You leave me out of it!” He gathered the items under his arms and found the cover of a tent where the Legate Captains were still together, trying to figure out how the angels could assimilate to Earth.  
“Here. I found these... I suspect they’re meant to go to someone.” Jacey nodded, breaking away from her conversation to pick up the crown from the table where he’d put it, wiping it down with a dry cloth. He saw then that the gem imbedded wasn’t just a gem but in the shape of a scarab beetle. “What’s the significance of it?” Tzadkiel asked.  
“Not meant for others to understand.” Jacey replied. “You know the meaning of yours. So, they will also understand the meaning of theirs.”  
“Where does it go? Will they come for it?”  
“Soho, London.” Elkyan murmured. “If your archangel Gabriel survived, he will be there too. Addison said she set up headquarters with the others in the bookshop of A.Z. Fell and Co..”  
“Aziraphale’s place?” Tzadkiel asked.  
“Yes. Cassian was close to him, apparently.” Elkyan murmured. “Can’t say that I ever saw them together, but then again, I am only limited to this mortal age. Who knows what they shared before I was ever born.”  
“Then that is where I will go.” Tzadkiel replied.  
“Not like that.” Preston finally showed his face. “Here, I might have something that will fit you.” With the flick of his staff, Tzadkiel was more warmly dressed and suited for the weather. “They may not take kindly to you handling items that are the last emotional connection to their loved ones. Here,” He took the crown from Jacey, nestling it within a box and wrapping it in red velvet, and took the books, setting them down gently in a chest of their own. “Elkyan.”  
“Of course.” Elkyan knelt, drawing a transportation portal and opening it in Soho. “Fair winds, my friend.” Tzadkiel stepped through the portal into Soho, London. It honestly looked like a hurricane tore through, but A.Z. Fell and Co. still stood strong amidst it all. He found the door unlocked and slipped inside to get reprieve from the heavy gale that still surrounded the city.  
He was met with a knife at his throat and didn’t dare to move. “I don’t come to threaten.” Indi stepped down from her crouched position, still brandishing the knife, still leveled at the point of his throat. Her eyes flickered to his broken wing and back down before she lowered the dagger.  
“Tzadkiel.” She murmured, seeing the band on his finger.  
“Yes.” He nodded.  
“They left... memories behind.” Tzadkiel presented her with the boxes that she took and gingerly set aside. The black velvet box, she left on a bookcase shelf with the bright scale bound book. The oaken chest she held onto, going upstairs and knocking on the door. “It’s for you.” She left it at the ‘not welcome’ mat that had Crowley written all over it.  
“Who are you?”  
“Indigo Narcissa Carter. Protege to Elkyan, Addison’s Legate. Call me Indi.” She replied. “So it’s done. Shame I couldn’t have been there.”  
“You were in no place to push yourself.” A weak male voice answered. She leaned over the railing and frowned in that general direction. Tzadkiel ventured in that direction, but Indi was there first, staff in one hand, dagger in another as the area around them warped to reveal a golden colored shield. “Tzadkiel. Archangel of Mercy.” Gabriel pushed himself into a sitting position, his body weak and ravaged with plagues. His eyes no longer reflected Heaven’s warmth but were a solid purple sclera.  
“He descends into darkness.” Tzadkiel murmured. Indi frowned, cupping Gabriel’s cheek and for a moment, normalcy appeared on Gabriel’s face, his violet orbs swinging to glimpse Tzadkiel.  
“You mustn’t push yourself so, Gabriel.” She whispered. But the moment she stepped away, the darkness returned to his eyes.  
“You bring light to him.” Tzadkiel murmured. “How? How is it that my presence does nothing but yours does everything?”  
“I devote all my healing to Apollo. As he gains strength, I do as well. He is not called bringer of light idly.”  
“He is also called bringer of plagues.” Tzadkiel replied.  
“Gabriel was struck by the darkness of Ourana directly.”  
“I am aware.” Tzadkiel glanced to his broken wing and Indi understood.  
“She lashed out at you as well?”  
“I came through the smoke to help my brothers and sisters. I found her back turned... and a scythe that ran Gabriel through like a wild pig. When I touched her, when she shook him loose, she broke one of my wings and I fell.” Gabriel’s face was passive, like he didn’t even care. “He... he doesn’t care, does he?” Tzadkiel asked.  
“He teeters on the precipice of falling completely. His body is weakened, and so succumbs to the plagues. But his mind is another matter. He is at war with himself.” Indi replied. “I wish there were more I could do, but ultimately, he is his own final say.”  


* * *

Dagon stood over the mass of fallen demons. “Hells.” It was all she could say. Her Crown Prince was still sitting on the mound of dirt that they’d managed to dig away. Beelzebub’s cheeks were smeared with dirt and demon blood that caked over and hid the plagues from their face. Head between their hands, they finally let out heavy sigh. Demons couldn’t die unless killed by in angelic manners. They would simply just reincarnate, find a new body, possess a different person.  
But the numbers that were gone were in the droves, hundreds upon hundreds. It was more of a statistical paperwork headache versus any actual death, but there were deaths among those numbers. The hell hounds were gone for certain.  
“My lord?” Dagon asked.  
“I...” Beelzebub pursed their lips together firmly. “Don’t have an anzzzwer for you.” They hadn’t expected anyone to actually care about Hell collapsing. Nico had pulled them from the rubble with Dagon, pressed a sharp nip to their cheek, and left with the promise of return. Still something was unsettled in their stomach. After a moment more of looking at the bodies, Beelzebub shifted their hand to their cheek, smearing blood and dirt up to their forehead. “Make a lizzzt of thozzze who are... in need of new bodiezzz. That will at leazzzt zzztart uzzz zzzomehwere.”  
“The shift?” Dagon asked. Beelzebub frowned. Yes, they’d felt that too-- a prickling that had started at the bottom of their spine and slowly crawled upwards more and more. They’d long attributed it to angels falling from Heaven into Hell. There used to be a time when that was a joyous occasion that they welcomed more into their ranks. But this... this mass, this multitude... no, it wasn’t possible!  
Something, and they didn’t know what, something powerful out there warred with itself, walking the thin line between good and evil. For half a second, Beelzebub considered that maybe an archangel was falling, but even with Raphael, Raphael who had stood so valiantly to heal the sick and wounded angels that had fallen, because in his mind, they were all still brothers and sisters, it had not caused such turmoil. No, this was something much, much bigger than the force of an archangel.


	11. The Crown Jewel for a Crown Prince

There was no mistaking that Aziraphale had fallen. His baby blues became more cat like. His fluffy curls had lengthened to his shoulders. And the new black feathers that were beginning to grow only confirmed it. He hid himself away, shunning most if not all contact. Crowley was harder to convince, but Indi and Tzadkiel left him alone.

Gabriel flickered in between borderline demonic and angelic most days. If Indi stayed near him, he was more drawn to the lighter side. If Tzadkiel was close, he was borderline demonic and had a horde of nasty things to spew at the other angel. It wasn’t until Crowley realized that the angels were physically withering that he mentioned something to Indi, and she agreed to step out to fill the bookshop’s fridge to the brim so that she could cook for them.

Crowley was lean already, and hunger didn’t come to him instinctively. It had been the need to take a shower and cut his hair that had driven him into the bathroom. It was then that he realized that he wasn’t anything more than skin and bones. Their immortality was fading. When he mentioned as much to Indi, though her appetite hadn’t been much either, she’d taken a look between him and Aziraphale and agreed. So she’d left to stock up hours ago. Now Crowley was wishing she-- someone, anyone-- was back. 

* * *

Beelzebub tried to ignore the pull to Soho, London. But the closer they came to it, the more their feet were drawn to it and to the raging conflict in their stomach. It seemed angel Aziraphale’s bookshop had managed to survive the wreckage. Humans picked through their fallen and scattered, but Beelzebub’s feet had made it to the edge of the bookshop unscathed. They stepped inside and inhaled deeply. There was so much... magic here. It didn’t initially appear inhabited, some cots scrounged together on one side of the room and piles of books haphazardly teetering here and there. Beelzebub trusted their instincts, instincts that led them to a bookshelf where a black velveteen box and a scale bound book lay. They smiled slightly; rich things were Nico’s trademark. Beelzebub found the folded scarab bookmark and pulled it from the book, unfolding it.

_ My dearest Crown Prince, I’m sorry that you have to find out my fate this way. Heaven and Hell are collapsing; this much we know. I have told you before that I do not belong to your faith, that I am a druid of Gaia.  _

_ I knew my time on Earth would not last forever. This world is a shell, a prison made to cage my goddess. I must free her, if you or anyone else has a chance of a future. _

Beelzebub’s smile started to fade the further they read on.

_ If you’re reading this then you’ve found the trail I left for you. I know Soho may not be pleasant for you, but it will be the last you have of me, of my scent. I am ashamed that I am too cowardly to tell you goodbye, to hold you, to kiss you one last time. I am with my Mother now; my Order will name me among the new stars that Gaia will put in the sky. _

_ My dearest Crown Prince, mea soare, mea tovarasul, I will never stop loving you. _

_ Yours always, _

_ Nico _

The smile had completely slid off Beelzebub’s face as they lifted the lid to the box to find the scarab jeweled crown inside. They lifted it delicately, face set in stone as they placed it among onyx hair. Wrath, rage, anger, sorrow... these emotions flooded Beelzebub at feeling the weight of it and knowing that it was the last real concrete thing that they had to their lover. Angry tar wings shot out from their back as they screamed out their pain.

Beelzebub certainly didn’t expect hands to grab onto their wings roughly and jerked back with a start, knocking over the bookshelf with a thundering crash. Gabriel loomed over them, eyes glowing purple in the dim light. “Get out!” Gabriel’s voice still crashed like rolling thunder and Beelzebub slapped his hands away, roaring out in anger.

One wouldn’t think someone so small could do so much damage. But it was two weeks later and Beelzebub was just learning about the death of their mate, just learning what that empty hollow feeling in their chest was. The first punch Beelzebub threw hit Gabriel square in the nose and they relished in the fact of feeling it break on impact. That threw weakened Gabriel for a loop as he staggered, trying to get the literal devil off of him, hands clawing at Beelzebub, anything to get them off.

“Thizzz izzz for every time you talked down to me!” A small opponent could easily manipulate a much larger one, and Beelzebub was no stranger to fighting. Gabriel, however, hadn’t seen combat in decades. “For every time you cazzzt an angel out!” Gabriel tripped over a pile of books and wings came out as he fell backwards again, impact ripping a sharp gasp from his chest. “For everything you ever did to uzzz!” Beelzebub’s hands were a blur, sharp cut jabs beating into Gabriel. His eyes snapped from a purple sclera to an amethyst orb and he frantically tried to push Beelzebub off, to no avail.

“Gabriel!” Tzadkiel started to rush forward, but Beelzebub put their wing through his shoulder and the grey-maned angel cried out in pain before slumping down against the tar-colored feathers. The other wing sliced down deep into Gabriel’s shoulder to keep him pinned to the floor as Beelzebub chuckled.

“You dezzzerve thizzz. You all dezzzerve to fall, you uzelezzz, worthlezzz bulliezzz!” Something dark flickered in Gabriel’s eyes, real raw anger that Beelzebub hadn’t seen in ages. The violet of his eyes started to bleed into the whites and Beelzebub felt his secondary wings surface, unfolding and moving to pin Beelzebub in place, but the demon moved too fluidly for Gabriel to do such a thing and he pinned them through the other wing with a howl of pain. A fist crashed into his perfect teeth again and again until Gabriel was choking on the blood in his mouth. “Zzzerves you right.” Beelzebub hissed. “In Hell, no one helpzzz you. In Hell, you help yourzzzelf or you don’t zzzurvive. You won’t make the firzzzt demon I’ve killed. But oh I, I will certainly relizzzh in your death.” They snarled, drawing their fist back.

“Do it then!” Gabriel glowered. “Kill me, Prince of Hell!” He growled out, spitting the blood in Beelzebub’s face. He made to lash out at Beelzebub, but the demon only smirked, withdrawing their wing from Tzadkiel to drive it through Gabriel’s other shoulder, all the way through and past the wooden flooring below.

Gabriel’s wail of pain brought Crowley and Aziraphale both to the balcony railing. Gabriel trembled, baring blood-stained teeth at Beelzebub. Affronted, the demon hissed out, pressing their wings even farther in until Gabriel writhed beneath them, every inch widening the gap in his skin as their wings cut deeper.

“Drown in your own blood, Archangel Gabriel!” Beelzebub hissed, drawing back for the final blow.

“Finish it!” Gabriel snarled. Beelzebub’s wings made contact, through Tzadkiel’s chest and into Gabriel’s below. Furious, Beelzebub threw Tzadkiel off only to notice their audience, and quickly made themselves absent, but on a warpath to hunt down the other archangels. Tzadkiel heaved out a gasp; this injury was mortal.

“You... hang on tight... to that druid... that heals you... Gabriel.” He breathed, blood dribbling down his chin. “There are things... that she has made known to me... that tells me that... she is a good person...”

His arms gave way beneath him and he landed hard on his shoulder beside Gabriel. “I can’t combat... the darkness... inside you.” Tzadkiel took another ragged breath. “But she can. It was... good to fight beside you... one last time.” He placed his hand on Gabriel’s cheek. “Brother.” Was the last thing he uttered with a dying whisper, his hand going limp and falling away.


	12. Indi's Determination

As Indi neared the bookshop with the Bentley (yes, Crowley let her borrow his beloved), she noticed things weren’t the same as she’d left them. Throwing open the doors to the bookshop and tasting the malice of unfamiliar magic, tasting blood, Indi’s eyes first landed on Aziraphale, frantically rifling through books and bookcases, looking for anything on demand, and Crowley, who had cradled Gabriel’s head in his lap and was crooning a soft song to him as he pressed his hands down hard against Gabriel’s open wounds as the archangel gasped for air, his breaths coming in sharp, short gurgles.

“Oh sweet mother of the...” Indi leapt to Gabriel’s side, yanking his shirt up to expose the runes on his hip and slapping her hand hard down onto it. Gabriel yelped out, spraying the room in a shower of blood. “Nnngh!” For a moment, her dark eyes flared yellow before fading. When she took her hand away, a golden stream of what almost looked like fluid made its way upwards across Gabriel’s body, breaking off into smaller tributaries to heal from the main channel. “You are not easy to keep alive.” Indi muttered.

“Our magic... it’s fading too.” Crowley murmured.

“You aren’t... anymore. You’re just... supernatural humanoids. Join the club... and get in line.” Indi murmured.

“Heh.” Aziraphale finally laughed, the first time in three weeks since he’d seen his wings burning in the windows of his shop. “Blunt, aren’t you?”

“You don’t get it. Tzad... Tzad knew his power had faded. If he... stood in front of... him...” Indi gestured to Gabriel. “He knew damn well the outcome would end in his death. Yet still he was an angel, through and through, and died doing the thing he knew best, protecting his people. He will be remembered. My people do not forget their warriors, their defenders, their loyal soldiers.”

“They will be remembered? How do you know?” Aziraphale asked.

“Druidic death isn’t really death. We go to sustain the life that follows us. Our bodies are buried but our souls still burn to light the way for the next generation.”

“Stars... Nebulae... Galaxies... How can I remember creating them? How can I remember putting them in the sky? From nothing, something?” Crowley asked.

“You weren’t drawing from nothing. There was always something there.” Indi murmured, finally removing her hand from Gabriel’s side. His expression was blank for a moment, face smeared in blood, but it evolved into a whimper, a pained expression before Gabriel winced as he crossed his arm over his face, hiding the amethyst trails of ichor that slid down his face.

Indi slid her hand along Gabriel’s cheek, delicately catching the tears as they fell. Just as his new hip tattoo didn’t behave in any normal way, his tears didn’t either, but for different reasons. She examined it, hand held upright, as it beaded on her fingertips. “He still has so much power.”

“Of course, he’s cherubim.” Aziraphale murmured. The shimmery purple liquid danced along her skin as she wielded it across her fingers, letting it all bead to one point. Curious, Indi stuck said finger in her mouth, tasting salt and sweat, tasting sour bitterness and betrayal, tasting holy fire that still raged beneath it all, a sweet fire that burned on the way down. “Did you just...”

Indi just smiled a little. “Druids who train under Apollo are taught to connect with all their senses. Pain comes with healing. Recovery is a journey, a chapter or two but not the whole book. Such a myriad of flavors, such an enigma. Humans do not have the capacity to feel the things he does and not be broken by it. Yet, he holds on. Yet, he goes through the stages of grief.” Her smile quirked up a little before falling into a more serious expression.

“Apollo as a healer on the battlefield was a rarity. He had a team beneath him to brave dangers for him. He picked the person he thought most influential to his battlefield, and he did not leave their side. Sometimes, a merciful death was an alternative to healing a broken body and even more broken mind. But those, those who stayed under his hand, those who made it out whole, those are Apollo’s pride and joy. Those journeys stick with him most.”

“You mean to say that there was an option for death?” Gabriel asked, cheeks stained with copper and amethyst. “That I could have taken it?” He grit his teeth down hard as he glared at Indi.

“Are you meant to frighten me?” Indi asked. “Ungrateful? It’s unbecoming of you, angel.”

“I am not an angel. I fell.”

“You were cast out. There’s a difference.” Indi replied. “Besides, there aren’t really angels and demons anymore.”

“Bbb...” Gabriel growled. “What put their feathers in a bunch?”

“What... are you talking about?” Indi asked. Gabriel’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“You presumed I’d done this to myself?”

“I presumed that another whose intents have been made plainly clear...” Indi glanced at Crowley, and to his hands where fingers twitched slightly against Gabriel’s scalp, and for a moment, Crowley looked ashamed, remembering his comment not just a couple weeks earlier about punching Gabriel’s lights out. 

“Heh.” Aziraphale chuckled. “It wouldn’t have been Crowley.”

“Angel. Don’t.” Crowley murmured.

“Then,” Indi cupped Gabriel’s cheek carefully, being careful of the bruises and swelling. “Then who did this to you?” Something was alight in her eyes, something dangerous as they flickered black to yellow and then back to black. She grabbed a towel from the stack as they lay on the emptied cots and dampened it, wiping away the blood that was still slightly oozing from his nose. “Who...” Her eyes narrowed. “Who dares to...” She growled out.

“Their name is Beelzebub. They’re one of the... Crown Princes of Hell.” Crowley answered slowly. “I presumed that... they were Nicolae’s lover. It was the only box left.” Indi sat back on her haunches, giving Crowley a measured gaze. “They won’t stop until their bloodlust is satiated.” She arched an eyebrow slightly, reaching out and summoning her staff to her hand with a simple gesture.

Indi stood slowly, tying the bloodied towel to her belt. She didn’t even need to open the doors physically; they opened as she glided through them and into the streets below. Golden light enveloped her and she was gone.

“You get the feeling that’s what a spirit looks like?” Aziraphale asked. 

“No, that would be an angry spirit.” Crowley used the last reserves of his demonic magic to get the food inside before it spoiled, stocking the cabinets and fridge. “Good person, huh, Tzadkiel?” Crowley murmured. It wasn’t Aziraphale who made the body disappear though; it was Gabriel, leaning on the very thin reserve of miraculous power he had left. “Where?”

“Stars.” Gabriel replied. “Stars to be with the one who loved him most.”

“You... can still do that?” Aziraphale asked.

“Don’t have much left.” Gabriel replied curtly, rather sinking back into Crowley’s lap once he realized that he was too drained to move. He hadn’t spent much, if any, time with the red-maned demon, no... he wasn’t sure what they were anymore, but that seemed to be a moot point. Strangely, he felt comfortable with the other two... though he knew he should be itching in his skin. He was exposed, and weakened. This, this would have been the perfect time to strike. Yet Aziraphale had made himself busy in the kitchen and Crowley seemed content to remain still. “You won’t attack?”

“You’re not the only one who saw something dark in her eyes.” Crowley muttered. “I might not like you, but I’m not  _ stupid _ enough to try anything funny. I’ve watched her care for you for two and some weeks, Gabriel.  _ She’s _ the one who healed you to begin with.” Gabriel mused on this, closing his eyes.

“She caught me. She caught me at the sake of her own health. I pulled out some of her feathers trying to land. She went face first into a tree. And still had the nerve to go and pull me to safety. Still carried me through fire and flame to get me to her Elders. Don’t know whatever I did to deserve that kind of... kindness.”

Crowley chuckled softly. “She runs on her own code of morals. She’s a wild one. Nicolae, one of their Elders, asked her if she had the kind of strength to be calling on Apollo on her patron god, so she turned around and healed you. Took a lot of fight out of her, I think, but I’ve never seen the face of someone so determined.”


	13. Indigo Goddess of Ink

By the time, Indi reached the battlefield, Beelzebub had already stormed on the encampment of druids and wounded angels. They brought with them legions that were mawing at the bit to be released and had already begun to wreak havoc on some of the healers’ tents.

“We need an army we don’t have!” Elkyan hissed. “Our people are drained of most of their powers. If we don’t get help and get help soon, this will be the biggest genocide druidry has ever seen!”

* * *

Beelzebub didn’t care what they were doing. They had two intents in mind. Kill the angels. Cause mayhem everywhere else. *!Zing!* But they jerked back from the Archangel Michael cowering in the corner against a desk where Beelzebub had backed her in. An arrow imbedded in between Michael’s fingers, hissing as it met contact with the desk. Black demon blood splattered Michael’s hand as Beelzebub touched fingers to their cheek and they came away wet where the bolt had seared their flesh. 

Beelzebub turned their head to the side slightly, looking for an opponent and finding no one. “Too slow!” Indi snarled, swinging down from the rafters of the tent and planting her feet in Beelzebub’s chest, sending them flying out of the tent and into the still muddy field where all demons had snapped to attention at the sight of their Crown Prince landing on their back.

Indi drew another arrow from her quiver, setting sights on Beelzebub as they stood, wings coming out in anger. That bolt flew through Beelzebub’s left wing and the demon screeched out in unholy pain as it seared on through, creating a gaping hole in their wing.

“Take your people and get out.” Indi said firmly, notching another arrow as she stood at the entrance to the tent. 

“You and what army?” Beelzebub asked. Indi frowned.

“What makes you think I need one?” She asked, loosing the arrow. It made its mark through Beelzebub’s other wing and through Dagon’s chest who had come to stand at the aid of her Crown Prince. Beelzebub turned to see the gaping hole in Dagon’s chest, black blood pouring out as they stammered out an apology at being taken off guard. Beelzebub’s lips curled back into a snarl and they leapt towards, making contact with Indi’s nose. 

Only once they had, did they realize that there was something horribly easy about that. Gabriel had fought back. This mortal did nothing but weather the hit. And then Indi smiled at the feeling of blood running down her lips and chin. “I can see why Elder Nicolae would have liked you.” Indi murmured, reaching out and grabbing Beelzebub by their wings. She reached through the holes made by the arrows and wrapped her hands around the base of their wings. “Mmm, cozy.” Indi smirked.

“No, you can’t!” Beelzebub choked out when they realized what this mortal was about to do.

“Should have thought of that before you encroached onto  _ my _ territory!” Indi snapped, breaking Beelzebub’s wings at the source. Livid, and absolutely writhing in agony, Beelzebub’s eyes darkened to a full black sclera as they leaned forward, sinking their teeth into Indi’s shoulder and tearing out flesh as they pulled back, pushing Indi away. There wasn’t much magic left for Beelzebub to repair their wings and they were left, dragging in the mud as they stumbled away.

Indi tapped her chest twice and flung her fingers outward, making a gesture as if to wipe the demon’s filth off of her. It roused the legions of Hell to a low disapproving rumble as they rallied around their leader. Indi smirked, taking the towel around her belt and waving it around in the air. Michael recovered first, standing by her side, and it wasn’t long before Uriel made her way out, still recovering but standing tall.

“Zzzee what ralliezzz around you! You are nothing to my legionzzz!” Beelzebub hissed. Elkyan put aside their debate to watch was unfolding outside, Preston already standing in the threshold of the tent.

“One of your rank, Elkyan. One of Addison’s.” Preston murmured. “Indigo. The healer who was injured while catching angels.” Indi walked up and down the row of tents, drawing more and more angels and some druids mixed in too. Michael folded her arms and stared down Beelzebub.

“Get her!” Beelzebub roared, losing their patience. The legions of Hell darted forward. Indi let them.

“What is your command?” Michael asked. But Indi only smiled as they scrambled over each other to get to her. Michael grew antsy, making to put her hand on Indi’s shoulder when she snarled, giving Michael a scathing glare as she knelt, pressing her hands to the ground.

“Too long I have waited to take my revenge. Too long have I been used and abused. Too long have I sat waiting to take my vengeance on Ourana and now that I am  _ finally  _ free, now that  _ you _ are finally free, you squander blood and waste time on old grievances?” Indi growled out.

“No longer.” She dug her fingers into the mud and thousands of shadowy warriors burst forth, impaling the demons left and right and at the center of it all, Indi set her sights on Beelzebub, dropping her quiver in favor of sliding her bow apart, revealing a curved edge sword. She swung it once, testing the mettle before darting forward. The line behind her surged forward, but the quick drop of her hand and the shadows formed a rank that cut them off from the rest of the field, circling the two of them in. “It’s just us now.”

The two circled each other. Beelzebub used the remaining bit of demonic energy to give themselves claws and sharp teeth, tar wings cracking and healing as they lost their feathers in favor of reddened webbing, scales riveting up their arms as they became almost more serpentine and dragon like. Indi let the yellow color come back into her eyes, a full set of honeyed brown wings unfolding on her back. Indi stared Beelzebub down and the demon lifted their chin in defiance.

The moment was tense. Every step was placed carefully. Beelzebub tested the edges of the arena that Indi had built but they stayed strong, unyielding. Finally, they stopped, meeting in the middle in a blur of motion. The pain didn’t hit instantly, and they met again, blade and claws clashing, wings beating against each other and teeth buried in skin. Still Indi kept her guard up, holding her blade as she analyzed Beelzebub’s every move.

They circled each other again. If the mortal was in pain, she wasn’t showing it, Beelzebub thought. They watched Indi closely as she brought the towel tied to her sash up to her face for a moment before dropping it again. Beelzebub concluded that that somehow must be related to her power and drove forward, pinning Indi up against the barrier as they snatched the copper-stained towel again. A little blood never bothered Beelzebub, but suddenly there Indi was, snatching the towel and literally stuffing it down the demon’s throat. “Choke on that, Prince of Hell.” Indi snapped.

But blood suddenly running down their throat, blood that stung with the fire of holiness,  _ that _ certainly bothered Beelzebub, and they clawed at their throat, fingers catching just the tail end of the towel and pulling it from their throat as they hunched over, retching. “Shouldn’t have let your guard down.” Indi hissed, grabbing them by their wings and pulling back until they actually snapped, bones tearing through skin and two webbed wings lying in the mud as Beelzebub screamed in agony. “Next time, you intrude on my territory, you die!”

“Are you mad? That could have killed me!” Beelzebub snarled deliriously.

“That, my dear, was the point.” Indi snapped, pressing her foot into the blood on Beelzebub’s back. It was starting to run puce instead of the black blood of demon-spawn. Beelzebub was losing their immortality. Indi pressed her knee down on Beelzebub’s back, wrenching their arms behind them. “You will leave this encampment and ne’er return. You will leave my people be. And you will leave your vendetta against angels be.”

“Never!” Beelzebub hissed. “Finish it! I won’t go down willingly!”

“You’ll concede or I’ll cut your head off and mount it on a pike to parade through your legions.” Indi replied. “Yield!” She snarled.

“Finish it!” It was Michael’s voice that carried. “It’s just a demon. Finish it!” Indi’s lips curled back into a wicked growl that ripped from between teeth.

“People like you don’t have the mental capacity to understand what a  _ tars _ means to people like Nicolae.” She muttered under her breath. “Yield, Crown Prince.”

Beelzebub struggled for a minute but they were outmatched, face buried in the mud wings clipped completely. “Why do you care so much anyways?” They finally muttered, tasting mud and still holy fire in the back of their throat.

_ “Tars, tarsam, tovarasul... soare.” _ Indi murmured. “I wasn’t close to Elder Nicolae but I do know what those words meant, and she was not a person who meant them lightly. I don’t... wish to kill you.”

“Why not? Did I kill your precious angel? Did I?” Beelzebub asked, feeling Indi tense.

“It’s my impression that someone has to be good to kill  _ him. _ ” Indi leaned in close to Beelzebub’s ear. “ _ He  _ is stronger than he looks.”

Beelzebub chuckled softly. “Cherubim Gabriel. He almost fell. I watched his eyes turn.” Michael gasped on the sidelines.

“They have been turning for two weeks, off and on. He was at war with himself. He chose the stronger side.” Indi murmured, pressing her hand to Beelzebub’s injuries.

“Few do what you do.” Beelzebub murmured, wincing.

“Hm?” Indi asked.

“Few would show mercy to a demon. I know your injuries. They are not to be taken lightly.” Beelzebub replied.

“Is that what you think you are? Heaven and Hell collapsed. There is no more angel, no more demon.”

“Then what are you? Raphael?” Indi chuckled.

“Your name for the angel of healing? No. My name is Indigo Narcissa Carter, and I am a druid of Addison’s Order.”  _ But oh, there is so much more to my story than that. _

“Indigo.” Beelzebub tasted the name, half twisting to glance at the druid with her yellow eyes and dark blue short wavy hair. Indi raised an eyebrow slightly. “I yield.” At those words, the demons howled out their displeasure and Beelzebub snarled vaguely in their direction.

“Coward!” Hastur snapped. 

“Mind your tongue or I’ll remove it!” Beelzebub hissed.

“With what power?!” Hastur asked. “You’re done for. She cut off your wings! What good are you, Crown Prince?”

“Don’t you see what killing Ourana did?” Indi asked. “Her death gave you freedom.”

“Her death took away our miracles, our power!”

“Your power always came from another source!” Indi snapped. “She just gave you unlimited access to it! She let you drain off Gaia, mother of the gods! With her, everything. Without her, nothing. She never taught how to draw from the veins of magic that the Earth is rich with. She never taught you to harness the full potential of magic. Your miracles? They’re parlor tricks. Nothing you could ever produce could compare to a druidry at its fullest extent. Your goddess never taught you that actions have consequences, not properly anyways.”

“We got that we when fell from Heaven.” Ligur muttered.

“Not properly, no. Druidry isn’t like that. Druidry takes in people from all faiths and religions. Druidry doesn’t care about your background. Druidry is about caring for Earth, from ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Druidry would have never punished you to begin with. You rebel against druidry and she will show you her wrath, and you will learn not to test it again, but you are not dismissed of the faith. Life is a learning process. You don’t get denied for asking questions.” Ligur was curious, but didn’t know if he could press the line, sliding a foot forward to test the inky boundary. 

He was surprised when it bent and bowed, creating a tunnel for him to walk through. He ran his fingers through it, feeling silk and satin, cool to the touch as it flowed against his outstretched hand. When he made it to the other side, joining the arena with Beelzebub and Indi, his hand was soaked with the dark ink. “What is it?” He asked. Indi paused for a minute and Beelzebub felt hesitation rip through her form. Now would be the perfect time to attack. Guards were beginning to come down.

“It’s... ink.” Indi finally murmured, relaxing slightly.

“Ink...?” Ligur asked. Beelzebub saw their chance, twisting from Indi’s grip and slamming the hand that still held the curved blade back into her side, ripping through flesh until it met the bone of her ribcage. Yes, she flinched, glancing down at Beelzebub.

“I was going to be nice to you.” Indi murmured, hand going to her side and coming away wet with blood.

“Your mistake.” Beelzebub smirked.

_ “She called you Soare. I would have made you the sun in the nebula that she walks now. But instead you chose to force my hand. So be it. Tell the ferryman Indigo says hello when you get down there!” _ Indi jerked the blade from her side and cut through Beelzebub’s neck, decapitating them cleanly. “Burn the remains.” Michael stepped through the ink; it more or less fell at her approach as Indi stumbled away. Michael threw the last remains of holy water on Beelzebub’s body but it did nothing. “No, you idiot, use real fire!” Preston stepped to Indi’s aid, lighting a flame with the strike of a snap and directing a stream of fire to the four separate parts.

“You’re wounded.” Indi waved him off.

“I have to go.” She murmured, sigils in the ground already as she vanished into thin air. She appeared more or less in Aziraphale’s bookshop, miscalculating where she’d land as she appeared from thin air instead of on the ground where’d she’d been hoping, and crashed to the floor with a rather loud splat.

“Hhhfff... hfff...” Indi panted, trying to at least get on hands and knees, but her hand was curled tightly to her side, sure she was holding something in.

“You look... awful.” Crowley commented.

“Well my insides are on my outsides so yeah, I’d say I feel awful too.” Indi replied, crashing down on her right, uninjured side. 

“Are you...” Crowley’s eyes adjusted to the light finally and he gasped when he realized she wasn’t joking. “Holy fuck, you aren’t joking! What the shit did you do?”

“Your... oof...” Indi shoved her intestines back inside her body and pressed her skin closed. “Crown Prince... hurk...” She didn’t make it very far before puking. “Ewwww.... Stupid... fucking... ow, what are you doing?!”

“Making sure your insides stay in your insides.” Crowley replied, pressing his hand to the wound and at least healing the internal damage. “This might sting a little.” He murmured, cleaning the wound and stitching it back together while Indi tried not to writhe in agony. All he got was a clenched teeth scream of pain. “You confronted Beelzebub.”

“And sent them to Hell... ah... the Underworld myself.” Indi muttered. “I wasn’t going to. I wanted to play nice. Bastard.”

“Uh... you wanted to play nice with the Crown Prince?”

“They were Elder Nicolae’s mate, her  _ Soare, tars, tarsam, tovarasul.” _

“Her sun?” 

“Nicolae... had to work to be a druid elder. Her past was difficult to say the least; that much I know. To find a sun... meant being their world. It wasn’t an easy decision. I wanted to send them to the stars, so that they could walk hand in hand again.” Indi let her head drop to the floor was a thud as Crowley curiously probed at some of her other wounds. “Funny how the Fates work.”

“You really believe in all that stuff?” Crowley asked. “Like... it all just seems so complicated.”

“It  _ is _ complicated... for those who weren’t raised in it.” Indi answered. “Think I’ll just... sleep on the floor.”

* * *

“Is she dead?” Aziraphale asked, poking Indi’s arm with his bare foot. There was a rather large pool of dried blood on the floor that she appeared to have slept in.

“Hnnn.” Indi groaned out her response, barely opening her eyes.

“Oh.” Aziraphale withdrew his foot uncertainly. “You don’t look too good.” Her shoulders shook once in a laugh before she winced. Nails dug into the floor as she tried to pull herself to her knees but failed, this time just staying down.

“Flllllurb. Would be a moot point to say that I don’t feel good, I think.” Indi muttered, just resting her head on the floor, not caring if it was still sticky with blood. Any other time, yes, but this time, no, just no. 

“This used to be a sacred place.” Aziraphale glanced around his bookshop. “Not anymore it seems. Blood, puke... is nothing holy anymore?”

“Ohhhh...” Indi groaned. “Clean if you must. Just clean around me.” She would have had a smart remark, and Aziraphale also commented on this.

“No snark?”

“The Crown Prince was a formidable opponent... and I let my guard down.” Indi replied. “Don’t have snark right now, Aziraphale. Kind of... kind of had to have Crowley’s help last night so that I wouldn’t bleed out on your floor.” She shivered and at that moment, Crowley’s arms came underneath her, carrying her over to one of the spare cots and wrapping her warmly in blankets.

“That... wasn’t necessary.” Indi murmured. Crowley speared her a glance. 

“S’ not like you were going to get up any time soon.”

“Fair... enough.” She drifted back into unconsciousness.


	14. Olympia

It had been a long time since she’d been back to Olympia, but she certainly dreamed of it, and today was no different. 

“Daughter.” Apollo murmured, his dark skin flecked with sweat as he slaved away, grinding herbs into paste and mixing them with oils to make tinctures and salves. “It’s been a long time since you’ve visited. I see you are here in spirit only.”

“Yes.”

“You were at death’s door again.”

“Yes.”

“Another saved you?”

“Yes.” Indi replied. Apollo finally looked up, a small smile on his lips. 

“Ever the stoic one. Tell me, daughter, tell me what do I make?” Indi glanced over the table where he was working. Dark black berries were clustered together, crushed in the mortar, but diluted as a tincture. 

“A poison... or a sedative. Depends on how much is administered.” Indi murmured. “The berries are deadly nightshade,  _ atropa belladonna. _ A native to Earth.”

“Very good.” Apollo replied. “Why are you here, daughter?”

“Asleep. My mortal form is asleep.”

“Yet this is the first time in a long time that you’ve visited.” Indi hesitated.

“I don’t know that I made the right decision. I killed someone.” Apollo’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I let my guard down and they struck me where it hurts. But they were hurting my people, my friends. I... cannot tell if I killed them in rage or not.”

“What were you trying to do?”

“Send them to Nicolae, daughter of Gaia.”

“Mmm...” Apollo hummed out softly. “ _ Soare.” _

“Yes, but I did not expect them to be so difficult! It would have been less of a complicated practice if they had not turned everyone against them, but they were killing left and right! I had to do something!”

“You may wish to plead their case before Zeus and Hera.”

“That is easier said than done.” Indi murmured. “That requires a physical body here in Olympia.”

“Then you may keep them in your mind until such a thing is attained.” Apollo replied. “It will be attained?”

“It will be eventually attained.” Apollo chuckled softly. “It will not be attained in the near future, at least, not until this body heals.” Indi remarked, closing her eyes. Apollo touched the wound on her side gently. 

“Made by your own blade. That’s how close you were to this... other person? I warn you, daughter; you are too trusting of these creatures that Ourana made.”

“I know what they are, father! I watched her abuse my ink for centuries!” Indi snapped. “They... caught me off guard.”

“You showed them mercy. And what did they do with it but stab you in the back. The creatures of Ourana are not to be trusted, daughter.” Apollo murmured. Indi blinked. Crowley, Aziraphale, Tzadkiel, Gabriel...

Tzadkiel, she had imparted most of her knowledge to. He made an excellent conversationalist. He had been eager to learn about druidry and what she was, since clearly she had been no ordinary druid. His sadness for his lover was great, almost agonizing, but he understood that she had to put her world-- the world that would become his world-- first. He had learned from Addison that sacrifice... that sometimes one lived all the way up to the end of their life only to die to sacrifice in the end-- as he had done for Gabriel.

She left Apollo to his musings to walk among the new stars-- the Elder Nebulae. Addison’s Nebula was bright, glowing golden as she and Tzadkiel finally walked together hand in hand. 

“Indigo.” Addison called out to her, seeing the faint outline of her. Indi made herself visible to the pair. “Why can I see you? It was always my understanding that only druid Elders would be made into nebulae at the time of their deaths. Yet you are not...” Addison reached out but her hand passed through Indi. “Here. Are you dead or dying?”

“I am asleep. I have walked these realms before nebulae were ever created. I am Indigo, demi-goddess of ink.” Indi replied. “I made a foolish mistake eons ago and lost my immortality. I chose reincarnation versus the Underworld to atone for it.”

Addison’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “You never were really just any kind of druid, were you?”

“I learned my druidry from Silvanus.” Indi replied. “Maybe one day I’ll walk in Olympia again, but it won’t be today.”

“How’s Gabriel?” Tzadkiel asked.

“Strong. Healing.” Indi let a smile grace her lips for a moment. “He chose the side of light.”

“I’m pleased that you were able to show him that light.” Tzadkiel murmured, bowing deeply. “Where others could not.” Indi returned the gesture.

“I understand that I have you to thank for saving his life?” She asked softly.

“Yes. I stepped in front of Beelzebub.”

“Nicolae’s  _ Soare. _ ” Addison murmured. “She didn’t talk about them in depth. I think it was to protect them. Tzadkiel was telling me that they were in a fit of rage on finding Nicolae’s death. It could have been avoided.”

“Nicolae would have never stood to say goodbye. I know she worked her behind off to make it as an Elder druid.”

“Nicolae knew that her time would come. She never wanted a relationship for that reason. One day, she knew she would be needed for the ritual. She was so deeply in love with them, and they with her... it must be different... falling for a...” Addison looked to Tzadkiel, unsure.

“It was a different time.” Tzadkiel murmured. “Angels, demons, all pitted against one another. If any of us had found out that there was a weakness to Beelzebub, someone would have eliminated it. So they hid themselves away; I would have done the same.” He kissed the back of Addison’s hand softly. “They weren’t any different than us, Addy. We just didn’t know it.”

“Your angels would have killed senselessly?” Addison asked.

“You know our history, Addy. None of our hands are clean.” Tzadkiel replied softly.

“I want to go to Nicolae’s Nebula, but I don’t know how to explain to her that I... sent her  _ Soare _ to the Underworld, knowing that no one will pay their toll and that they will linger in limbo until someone pays it... or until they join her.”

“You pursued Beelzebub?” Tzadkiel asked. His eyes drifted to the exposed wound on her side. “They hurt you.”

“They hurt Gabriel. They killed you! They were killing druids! What else was I supposed to do?! I offered them mercy... and they stabbed me in the back!” Indi replied heatedly. “I didn’t have a choice. I’m one of the few that will get the chance to stand before the godheads and plead a case to put a sun in the nebulae. If they had cooperated, I could have drawn on the strength of our people to put them back in their lover’s arms. But they didn’t.”

Indi took a step back from Addison. “I should go. Actually get some rest.” She closed her eyes, letting her spirit return to the mortal plane and finally, finally relaxing into sleep as warmth claimed her.


	15. The Innocence of Cherubim

Gabriel hadn’t realized how cold it was in the bookshop until he was up to get some water, cracking open a bottle of it as he padded across the cold flooring. He supposed that Aziraphale and Crowley were holed up together behind the closed door upstairs. Everything still hurt, his wings, his back, his everything. He danced in place slightly, trying to warm his feet as he downed the bottle of water, tossing it into the rubbish bin near the cots. He glanced onto the shivering woman on the cot across from him and dragged a blanket from the pile onto her. 

Yet still after ten minutes, she still shivered and Gabriel threw all caution to the wind, pushing the two cots together and wrapping his arms around her. It took some time for her shaking to stop, but Gabriel was long asleep by the time it did.

Indi curled into his warmth. Yes, druids were particular about who touched them and how. But Gabriel, oh Gabriel didn’t know any better, didn’t know the position that he’d put himself into was scandalous. But by the gods, he was warm, so warm. She half-heartedly made a half-moon sweeping motion with her hand, putting a thin silver shield over them, and pulled his hand back over her side, clutching onto him.

Gabriel, never slept a day in his lifetime, never been on Earth long enough for the need to affect him, was out like a light. It was a solid couple of days before Indi heeded her body and stirred, startling the hell out of Crowley and Aziraphale who were certain that there  _ had  _ been someone sleeping there a few nights ago.

Indi untangled herself from a mess of limbs and wings, staring up into the faces of Crowley and Aziraphale. “Comfortable are you?” Aziraphale asked.

“Well.” Crowley remarked slyly.

“Listen...” She didn’t have a reply.

“Have you been christening those cots?” Crowley asked. “We couldn’t see you there. Some type of druidic magic?”

“Some type of druid shield. For that exact reason that nosy busybodies should learn to mind their own business.” Indi replied, wincing as she made her way around them and to the bathroom. When she came back, Gabriel was still sprawled out, taking up the bulk of the cots. For a moment, Indi debated on laying back down again.

“I thought that would be considered immoral touch.” Crowley remarked. Indi grimaced.

“Oh, it is... was... that’s different, you know!” Indi muttered, thinking about the everloving giant purple bruises that consumed most of her right non-injured side. “It is. And it still hurts.” Crowley’s expression of teasing evolved into something more serious.

“That can actually hurt you?”

“Yes, it usually has a physical detriment.” Indi replied.

“You mean to say that Gabriel simply holding you was painful.”

“Yes.” Indi murmured.

“And you endured it because?” Aziraphale asked.

“He meant it with good intentions. And he was warm and I couldn’t conserve heat. I wouldn’t hold it against him.” Indi replied.

“I’m guessing that many of your kind aren’t warriors.” Crowley remarked.

“Most of us choose the healing route, yes. I can curb some of it because of... well... that’s not important.” Indi finished lamely, not wanting to say much more. Gabriel finally stirred to find the three in conversation, or rather, Aziraphale and Crowley and Indi answering them softer and softer until her voice was barely a husk.

At that point, Gabriel made himself very, very known, standing to his full height, wings out and all and looming behind Indi. Knowing he was behind her, Indi ducked behind him and when Crowley and Aziraphale started to pursue, questions never far from their lips, Gabriel broadened his stance and crossed his arms. “I believe the lady in question would like you to leave her alone.”

“Thank the good gods for you, Gabriel.” Indi murmured, crossing the bookshop to get a breath of air outside on the back patio. He joined her shortly but didn’t say much, leaning on the railing as she took a seat on the steps. “Thank you.” She murmured. “You didn’t have to...”

“Still cold?” Gabriel asked. “I hadn’t realized how cold it got last night. I wasn’t trying to be crude...”

“Hah... no, you were not the crude one in that conversation.” Indi replied, rolling up the sleeves to the tunic that she was wearing and tying off the ends to bare her stomach and stitched wound. “You weren’t offensive, Gabriel.” His eyes vaguely drifted downwards before snapping back up. “You have questions.”

“It isn’t prudent of me.” Gabriel started.

“Were you a warrior through and through? Did you never work with a healer before?” Indi asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re uncomfortable. I can sense it.” Indi turned her head to face him. “Come. Sit. I don’t bite unless provoked.” Gabriel reluctantly took a seat next to her and she instinctively leaned against his shoulder. He stiffened at first, but realized that she wasn’t doing anything other than just sharing a close contact with him. 

“I... overheard your conversation with them while I was... resting.” Gabriel murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you. Have I... have I been hurting you?”

“Oh Gabriel, sweet Gabriel.” Indi sighed. “My people say that touch without consent is immoral. And so it is. Malicious touch is particularly detrimental. Even the glancing touch will leave a bruise.” He glanced over at her arm where darker spots were beginning to mottle.

“I hurt you.”

“At first perhaps. But not all consent has to be given verbally.” Indi murmured, tugging her sleeve down. “You have a good heart, Gabriel. I can’t... and won’t fault you for it. You have the heart of a healer. Who else would see someone in need and do anything and everything in their power to correct it?”

“An angel.” Gabriel replied.

“Not all angels are like you.” Indi whispered. “They should be, I think, but they aren’t.”

“Had a run-in?”

“Our opinions on the creatures you call demons differ. They’re so soft, so curious, and they know the same magic. They have familiars. We are so similar. Yet there is so much hatred, so much animosity.”

“They aren’t good people.”

“Nobody is good people, Gabriel.”

“You are.” That time she did lift her head to stare at him.

“I’m honored you think that but to accept such a compliment would be blasphemy. I am far from good people.”

“No?” Gabriel asked.

“No.” Indi replied.

“What makes you say such things?” Gabriel wondered. “I mean, you were catching falling angels. You helped out even though you were hurt. You carried  _ me _ through fire and flame and still went to help your people even though you were injured and weakened. You still think you aren’t good people? What would it take to prove it to you?”

“That is not your concern, Gabriel, and you do not need to prove it to me.” Indi murmured. Wisely, he dropped the matter all together, finally resting his head against hers. “If I know my people, a time of mourning will begin soon. We will sit vigil for each other and our fallen, and after that, celebrate a gathering and new beginnings. A druid festival like this won’t be seen for centuries again. Would you like to come with me? Your fellow angels will be there.”

“Thank you for the invitation.” Gabriel replied politely. “I’m... unsure.” Indi shrugged.

“You are more than welcome to join us.” She murmured.


	16. Indi's Sacrifice

And he did join them, but Indi was nowhere to be found amongst the rabble of druid, angel, and demon. Gabriel felt a little out of place, but doing as he was directed, changed into something dark and blended in more and more. The druids intermingled freely among each other, while angels had congregated to one side and demons to another. 

He tended to stay near the base of the druidic encampments and found more than one angel and demon had mingled in the encampments. He was still quite bruised and tender so most people didn’t give him a second glance.

“Was the wickedest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” There was a quick clipped voice. “Never knew humans could do magic like that. I mean, it was real ink; it weren’t no illusion.” Gabriel ducked into a tent as the pair of demons walked by.

“I am aware.” Hastur, Gabriel thought. He seemed unamused. 

“Come on, Has.” Ligur. The other demon was not far away it seemed. “Look, there she is now! Come on!” Gabriel ducked out of the tent to find the pair, well, Ligur dragging Hastur into one of the tents. He followed the pair but kept his distance, mingling with others as they watched the druids dance with their elements.

Indi kept her distance from the other druids as they danced with water, flame, and earth. Others yet still danced with celestial lights and darknesses.

“Wouldya look at that.” Ligur breathed. “She’s the only one with that ink thing.” Gabriel soon came to realize that his and Ligur’s eyes were both on the same person. Ligur was too wowed by her ability. Gabriel’s eyes were on her as she moved fluidly, flawlessly, in perfect harmony with the tendrils of ink that danced with her. As his eyes drifted over the dancers, he felt something damp touch his hand slightly and realized that a black inky shadow was weaving its way out through the crowds. She was gone from the tent and Gabriel pursued the figure farther.

“I’m pleased you decided to come.” Indi’s voice was weak. He nearly tripped over her, nestled in the roots of a tree, her eyes narrowed to slits. 

Gabriel knelt. “Are you still wounded?”

“Heh.” She laughed but it turned into a grimace. “I hate putting on for people. The others seem to enjoy it, but it’s not my scene.” Indi breathed, hand coming away from her side damp with blood. 

“Is that still...”

“It’s the wound made by Crown Prince Beelzebub, yes.” Indi answered.

“Why haven’t you healed?” Gabriel asked, pressing his hand to her side. She hissed between her teeth.

“It was my blade. My blade made in Olympia, tempered by Vulcan and blessed by Hecate. My blade that was made to kill gods. I’ve tried to heal it the best I can but nothing short of Apollo...” Indi grimaced as Gabriel applied more pressure. “My blade made to kill gods will take another. Ah, ah, ah!” She flinched, baring her teeth in pain.

“So how do we get you to Apollo?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s not that simple, Gabriel.” Indi replied. “Suovetaurilia might get me an audience, but what he wants, what he truly wants, I can’t do.”

“Why not?” Gabriel asked. She gave him a small smile.

“Kill one of Ourana’s creatures. Kill someone I’ve put my trust into. Prove that I’m a goddess worthy of walking in Olympia again. Apparently my stunt with Crown Prince Beelzebub was... infuriating to him to say the least.” Indi murmured. “I’ll take my mortality.”

“You... knew you were dying.” Gabriel started. “Why go through such lengths? Why push yourself?”

“It’s alright, Gabriel.” She smiled softly again. “You’re alright.” Indi touched his face, cupping his cheek tenderly. “I will show my father that not all trust is for naught.”

“Kill me.” Gabriel breathed. “Kill me, Indi, please! Your people need you. My people need a leader like you. What have I to teach them, I who am fallen?!” Gabriel pleaded but her arm was slack and she was gone. “No, no, no, no, no. NO!” Anguished, Gabriel felt his wings come forth with absolutely raw agony, four honey browned wings, fully feathered, coming to light.

“PLEASE!” His voice broke in that instant, and angels surrounded him in his cry for help. Gabriel’s feral growl ripped through them. “Get away!” He snarled, cradling Indi’s body close to himself, trying to impart some sort of warmth into her cold skin. 

“Gabriel.” Uriel recognized him beneath the bruises and tousled hair, recognized him by his wings, and more importantly recognized who he was holding. “The druid who rallied us to battle.”

“Go away!” Gabriel snarled, his wings flexing with the might of his anger, threatening, threatening to blast everyone away with the force of his emotions. Ichor still in his blood pooled in his eyes, slipping out through amethyst tears. “Indi, no.” Gabriel bit back a sob. The sudden influx of energy brought the Legate Captains to his side as well and all he wanted to do was be alone, alone! Sorrow careened through him with a rush, and he thought his chest would explode from the pressure. It came out in a wail of pain that he didn’t even realize was his own. No, this couldn’t be happening!


	17. Indi's Sacrifice Part 2

The dark sands of the Underworld greeted her. It wasn’t the first time she had experienced death, but it was the first time that she wasn’t standing on the docks waiting for reincarnation. She walked barefoot and free, unhindered unlike the other souls trapped in the river, burying her feet in the sand with every step.

“Well, well, well.... So the gods can be killed after all.” Hades joined her path across the sands, Cerberus between them. Indi rested her hand on the hound’s head, scratching between the ears. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of our own kind down here. You’ve stood on the docks so many times; why is today any different?”

“Blade.” Indi murmured. “I was struck with my own blade.”

“Cut down with your own weapon.” Hades’ dark robes made him appear to be gliding over the sands. “Hell of a way to go. No doubt that one was poisoned as well.”

“It was indeed.” Indi replied. “It was indeed.”

“So. You have fully seized your immortality. Yet you are not resting in paradise? You are... looking for something.”

“Looking for someone.” Indi replied. “That one.” She gestured to a soul in the river, tolls unpaid.

“Beelzebub. Throne of Heaven. Crown Prince of Hell. A creation of Ourana.” Hades murmured. “You want it... why?”

“They have a place that isn’t here. They belong to Nicolae’s Nebula.” Indi answered. “I’ll pay their toll with the rest of my godhood, and take their place in River Styx.”

“An eternity of torment, unable to pass into peace...” Hades hummed softly. “Not a fate I would particularly wish on anyone, yet here you are... I do hope you know what you are doing.” His feet glided across the water as she waded through to Beelzebub’s soul.

“Make them a bright sun.” Indi murmured, taking their hand, taking their place and letting the crushing waters swarm in on her as they exchanged places. It was done. It was over. It was the right thing to do, and Indi made sure the last thing she remembered was Gabriel’s face.

* * *

It was Apollo who noticed the new sun in Nicolae’s Nebula. So, Indigo had finally done it and he mentioned as much to Zeus the next time they met.

“I have to say...” Zeus gave plenty of dramatic pause. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We certainly haven’t reviewed any requests to put suns in nebulae... and may I remind you that you were the one who took away your daughter’s immortality?”

“Serves her right, going around, trusting other slimy gods like that! Next question is if you didn’t put it in the stars, who did?” Apollo asked. Zeus raised his eyebrows slightly.

“One of my brothers, perhaps?” Zeus replied. “Not likely Poseidon... but Hades... if she was in the Underworld and made a suitable trade for the soul...” Apollo’s face was ghastly pale at the thought of Indigo being lost to River Styx. “You certainly knew that could be a consequence of your actions. And I think your daughter was well aware of what her friendship with Ourana cost her-- most of her freedom-- I believe.” He murmured. “She isn’t a child, Apollo. She earned her rank and position in battle and yet you still chose to punish her when you could have helped her.” Zeus stepped down from his throne, joined by Hera, Ares, and Athena. 

Rather pointedly both gods of war snubbed their noses down at Apollo. Indigo had proved a lithe and agile warrior in battle and combined with constant bombardment of her father’s healing lessons, had proved a valuable asset on the battlefield. They were aware that Apollo had taken her immortality, and that she had chosen to be reincarnated time and time again versus languishing in the Underworld. They were also aware that Apollo had made it seem as if Ourana had taken her immortality, thus making Indigo an easy target for the other goddess to manipulate and use.

Zeus and the others made their way down to the Underworld, meeting Hades whose robes still glittered with stardust and seemed scorched around the edges. He’d never met such a valiant soul, who, upon release into Nicolae’s Nebula, had turned into a sun that shone brightly, and the figure captured within it had burst into the arms of the Elder druid, holding them close. He met them on the banks to the Underworld.

“Brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Hades asked.

“The sun in Nicolae’s Nebula.” Apollo murmured. “Who told you to put it there?”

“Wha... but Indigo did, of course.” Hades replied. “She volunteered herself to take their place. She’s been gone.”

“She’s in River Styx?” Apollo confirmed.

“Yes, she paid the toll with the price of her godhood.” Hades replied. “It’s not a fate I would have wished for her, and where do you think you’re going?!” He caught Apollo’s arm as he waded in the shallows of the river.

“She’s my daughter!”

“This is a consequence of your actions!” Hades replied. “She surrendered her godhood. Do you intend to do the same? Die for her life?”

“That wouldn’t be a waste.” Ares muttered.

“And who would take my place?” Apollo asked.

“I wonder indeed.” Athena replied. “Go on. Take her place. She will serve more as Apollo than you have in these last few millennia.”

“You can’t be serious!” Apollo protested, but the four other gods closed him in, forcing him into the deeper waters, until he was on top of Indigo’s soul. Zeus and Hades pulled her out, forcing Apollo beneath the waters. Still her body did not yet return.

“Her people must be following a mourning ritual.” Athena murmured. “Come, take her into my temple.”

“I will rebuild her own.” Ares replied. “A testament to endings and new beginnings.”

* * *

Gabriel covered himself in soot and ash in mourning. He couldn’t believe that they’d all been too blind... that he’d been too blind to see what was happening in front of his face. He sat vigil with the others, shoulder to shoulder with angels and demons and druids alike. For once, Gabriel felt like he belonged somewhere. Still, all mourning periods had to come to an end, and this one was no different. He gazed upon the blaze that emanated from Indi’s body atop the pyre and tears still pricked at his eyes. The others would go and celebrate beginning life anew... but how could he? How could he celebrate? It left such a sour taste in his mouth.


	18. Apollo Rebuilt

As smoke and ashes rose into the planes of Olympia, Indi began to regain consciousness, her body becoming whole again. She awoke, not to the crushing waters of River Styx, but to a soft chaise in a temple surrounded by books and desks containing military strategic plans.

“Athena?” Indi questioned hoarsely.

“Indigo!” Athena bounced to her side. “How do you feel?”

“Like I swallowed sand.” Indi murmured, swinging her legs over the side of the chaise. 

“No, no. Hera said it was better if you didn’t try to get up first. Here.” Athena handed her a small vial of an amber liquid, opened. Indi took a sniff-- ambrosia-- the drink of the gods. She downed it in one small gulp and the weightiness in her chest went away. 

“I’m... in Olympia?” Indi questioned, taking in Athena’s temple as Athena draped a sheet around her, securing it firmly.

“Yep.” Athena murmured. 

“What happened? I just remember...”  _ Gabriel. _

“You sacrificed yourself to send one of Ourana’s creatures into the stars to be with their lover?” Athena asked. “You don’t remember any of it?”

“I remember dying.” Indi grimaced, checking her side. The scar still remained.

“Ares thought you might want to keep your scars. Something about character?”

“They do remind me of the battles I’ve faced.” Indi replied. “I’m not upset to find them still there. I’m just surprised to be alive, to be immortal again and have a body in Olympia. Where’s my father?” The slight stricken look on Athena’s face gave her away. “He WHAT?! He sacrificed himself for me?!”

“Not exactly.” Zeus unfolded himself from the threshold. “We forced Apollo into taking your place.”

“Why?” Indi asked.

“Why? Because he was the one who took your immortality to begin with.” Zeus replied.

“No, Ourana did that.”

“No, he made you believe that Ourana had the power to take your immortality. He was your father, Indigo.  _ He  _ took your immortality.” Zeus confirmed. “He was the only one who had the power to help you and he punished you instead. He knew that you were strong; you took after your mother in spirit, but had all the right talents to surpass him one day... and well, you know how politics works around here.”

“I do know... but he was my father!”

“Blood matters not to a man who wishes to keep his pride and position.” Hera murmured. “He won’t be a problem any longer. We’ve already torn down his temple and rebuilt something for you in the place of his own. If you will wear the mantle... then we will have you among our ranks.”

“I will take the mantle on my shoulders, on one condition.” Indi murmured. “I go back to Earth to teach. I raise my healers there. I teach a new generation of healing. Olympia has the healers who are still set in my father’s ways. There are people out there hurting, who have been stripped of their magic and are angry that they don’t know how to harness it any longer. I learned my druidry from Silvanus. I can do more down there than I ever would be able to here.”

“I think she pleads her case well, husband.” Hera murmured.

“Indeed.” Zeus replied. “Well... you aren’t wrong.” Apollo’s mantle lay at the steps of her new temple. Indi walked with the godheads to her new temple. She kicked aside the staff, picking it up only to break it in half. All traces of his power vanished in Olympia. She summoned her own to her side, taking the crystal from it and setting it on the table.

Indi disappeared into the forests until she’d found broken branches of bloodwood, ash, and ebony. She brought them back to her temple, hewing them down to a suitable shape, using the bloodwood to bind the other two together. She centered the gem in the vein of bloodwood and it glowed for a moment as the two bound together. 

She set aside the laurel and golden halo of light. Ares watched her. “Do you not intend to wear the same mantles?”

“What good are they to me?” Indi asked.

“Then let us reforge them. It is the beginning of a new era. Come, you do not deserve your father’s old things.” Ares murmured, walking hand in hand with her to his forges.

“I do appreciate the laurel. Perhaps a crown of laurel ivy instead of the halo?” Indi asked.

“Of course. Hephaestus should still be able to imbue the crown with light.” Ares replied. “Let us tell him.” He dropped by the forges to explain the situation to Hephaestus, who was delighted to forge something new. It had been ages after all!

“What about your bow?” Hephaestus asked. “It has served you well?”

“It has indeed.” Indi produced the bow from her divine armory. “Do you mind if I take the time in your armory to oil my quiver?”

“This is your home as much as it is mine, Indigo.” Hephaestus replied. “Whatever you need, it is yours.”

Indi bowed to him slightly, collecting her things and moving to a separate room. She was antsy to get back to Earth but tried not to let it show. Who knows how much time was passing, squandered? Would there even be a druid gathering by the time she got back?

“You seem worried.” Ares commented, polishing her bow and blade.

“You needn’t...” Indi started but Ares just waved her off. “Ah... I just know that time can pass here in the blink of an eye and it be years still back on Earth.”

“Then we make sure that you get back in time.” Ares replied. “Missing someone?” He asked. Indi blushed.

“A... A friend. I left behind... someone I could have killed to get my immortality as a rite of proving myself to my father. But I... couldn’t.”

“Mercy wasn’t Apollo’s strong suit. But it seems to fit you well. We still have much to learn from you, I think.” Ares murmured, honing the blade and saturating it with poison while she oiled the quiver and restocked it with arrows. “Will you take on your other symbols as well? The raven? The lyre?”

“Is Inky even still around?” Indi asked, referring to a raven that she had rescued just as a child.

“Doubtful.” Ares replied. “Apollo’s Raven will always be here.”

“I think I’d like to christen a new animal. Something humans associate with healing-- the serpent.”

“The serpent...?”

“Yes. It was a part of Ourana’s story and was a symbol of healing among her early peoples. Humans use it even now to signify healing and emergency services.”

“Alright. We’ll find you a serpent. Both a feminine and masculine energy.” Ares murmured. “And the lyre?”

“The panflute.”

“Oh, of course. Simple yet mysterious.” Ares nodded to her. “I’ll bring about some bloodwood for you to whittle.” Indi nodded to him as he left and she stayed behind to put her input in as Hephaestus shaped the crown of laurel ivy. Apollo’s light had been brash and blinding; he demanded everyone’s attention when he stepped onto the battlefield with his consorts. Indi requested a soft light, bright, but not blinding, warm and inviting, and Hephaestus carefully inlaid the leaves of golden laurel with malachite plates, carefully crafted sweet yellow-white flowers made with fluorite shavings and dark berries from polished purple sugilite.

“It’s beautiful.” Indi lifted the snake from Ares’ shoulders, a gorgeous albino piebald ball python with only black markings. “Cast them when you are finished, Hephaestus, please, and bring two banners to my temple so that they may be ordained as the new symbol of healing.” Hephaestus bowed low again.

“Anything for you, Indigo.” Hephaestus murmured.

“Hephaestus...?” Indi asked, turning before she left. “I’m sorry for the way my father treated you.”

“It is of no concern, Indigo.” He replied. “I have come not to expect kindness from anyone other than Ares and those he forces to be polite.”

“Still..” Indi murmured.

“You are not your father.” Hephaestus put down his metal working for a moment, already beginning to cast the snake into a golden statue. “And you are not responsible for his sins.” He put his hands on her shoulders, his heavy gloves still warm from the heat of the forge. “Remember, your mother was a nymph. And you take after her more than you think you do. You may be your father’s child, but there’s still two parts to a whole. Your kindness is abounding. Never let it go, and it will always guide you right.” He murmured. “Now go. Make your harp and lyre and prepare to take upon yourself the mantle of healing, for her burden is heavy.” Indi nodded to Hephaestus, leaving him to his work.


	19. Apollo's Mantle

By the time night fell, the temple had been prepared and the gods were gathered together. Ares held the crown in a delicately crafted box, lined with moss. Athena held the snake, the symbol of healing, with both masculine and feminine traits. Hera held the bloodwood pan flute. Zeus laid claim to the newly polished bow and blade, the richly oiled leather still fresh.

Indi had let the other gods work their wonders. They had spared her none and when she stood before the godheads and triads, she was simply dressed, nothing more than a white toga cinched together with a golden belt.

It wasn’t so much as an exchanging of words. Janus preceded the ordeal. He was typically Roman, but all gods were gathered in Olympia. 

“Father Janus.” Indi bowed before him, offering to him bread and wine. He inclined his head to her, taking the offerings as he took his seat over the thrones of the gods. 

“We have gathered together to witness Indigo, goddess of ink and all her creatures, take on the mantle of the goddess of healing, of the sun, of truth, of archery, and of music.” Janus murmured. “Thank you for the offerings, Indigo. It means a lot that you’ve made them by hand.” He took a sip of the wine and nibbled his way along the bread. “The gods may now present the items considered the mantle.”

“The crown.” Ares stood, unveiling the newly hewn crown. “Every ruler has one, but you’re not a ruler. You’ve proven yourself to be a leader, a commander, and on the battlefield, we need commanders more than ever. This crown once symbolized the connection to the sun. You’ve asked for it to be so much more. It pays homage to victory and honor. It symbolizes your connection to Olympia and her forests. Yet still it also symbolizes your connection to Earth and her forests. I present you with your crown and pray that you wear it with pride, for you are not like the one who wore it before. May you never forget where it came from.” Indi bowed, letting Ares place the crown amongst blue curls.

When he stepped back, Athena stepped forward. “Apollo came bearing a raven familiar. His plagues scorched its wings and turned it from white to black. His anger burned it with all the power of the sun. You have chosen a serpent as your familiar. The piebald markings that adorn its skin tells me more about your character than just mere words. Others would have shunned it, looking for a purer familiar, but who can judge the heart? Balance is key to a good life. Balance is key to a good judgment. You have chosen black and white, masculine and feminine, and you have chosen it to be the symbol of your healing.” Athena draped the snake around her shoulders. “You have chosen well. All will be welcome under your studies.” Indi also bowed to her, before straightening as Hera approached.

“The pan flute. It’s admittedly not what I would have chosen for myself.” Hera remarked. “But then again, I don’t know how to play it. It pays homage to the music of nymphs of Silvanus’ forests, but it is an Earthen instrument through and through. Play me a song, won’t you?” She handed the red pan flute to Indi who brought it to her lips. Soft, earthy music surrounded the area, something grandiose but simple all at the same time. “It’s beautiful. I hope you’ll give it the recognition it deserves.” She stepped back to her throne as Zeus rose, bow and quiver in his hands.

“Your first Olympian weapon. Apollo had it made as soon as he knew your mother was expecting. I never thought you’d grow into it; I used to think that soon you’d set your sights on grander weapons. But you embraced it and it served you well. The blade forged to kill gods killed you instead and instead of squandering your time in the Underworld, you gave life back to someone who wanted it most. Indigo, daughter of Apollo no longer, I present you with your bow and blade. May it still serve you well. May it protect you, defend you, strike with all the fury of your anger. And may it never be used against you again.” Zeus bowed to her instead.

“Welcome to immortality, granddaughter. Welcome to Olympia, goddess of healing.” Indi met him in a bow as he handed her back her weapon. “What is your first move, Indigo?” She only smiled slightly, summoning her staff and burying one end in the dirt, twisting it slightly, opening a portal to Earth.

“My people need me. I will take Apollo’s healers and return to Earth.”

“No celebrations?” Zeus asked. Indi shrugged.

“We are sitting ducks, all gathered in one place. If you still wish to celebrate, there will be plenty of food and drink to go around. It would be a mingling of gods and druids the likes of which the Earth has never seen. It will be writ into our history, not that it won’t be already.”  
“And exposure to humans?”

“When have the gods ever worried about exposing themselves to humans? Not that it particularly matters, but we are shielded from human contact.”

“A world within a world. Like the world of the nymphs with my own forests.” Silvanus murmured. “Gaia and her Elder Druids built a hidden society. Clever. I will go... if no one else wants to. I’m intrigued by a world that shaped in the image of Olympia’s forests.”

“I’ll go.” Dionysus answered. “Since when have I ever passed up the chance to bring libations to the mortal world? Let us make this a feast of the gods. They were all created by one of us. They are kin to us... whether we choose to accept it or not.”

“Dio.” Indi murmured. He gave her a megawatt smile.

“Indi.” She smiled back at him. “Let me lend my strength to widen the portal.” He lent his hand to her staff, opening the portal even farther, the golden rings expanding.

“I do believe we are being outvoted.” Zeus replied. “Very well. We will join your celebration, Indigo. Nothing less than our finest spread among our people.” Ares barked out a sharp order for servants to bring carts loaded with fresh fruits and veggies, roasted and dried meats, breads baked by their finest artisans, wine and cheese aged for years-- carts that were so heavy that they threatened to bulge out the sides and creaked under the strain. He lent his hand to Indi’s staff, opening the portal completely.

“Sister.” He acknowledged Indi.

“Brother.”

* * *

The light that illuminated the field was blinding. Elkyan shielded her eyes. They had been watching it as it expanded, wondering what could possibly have come through their druidic shield. Now it was bright and blinding and spreading fast and they couldn’t rally forces fast enough.

The light died down and the first thing Elkyan saw was the man who had finished opening it-- young with hair that was as red and untamed as a flame. He turned and let go of the staff in the middle and Elkyan started at seeing none other than Indigo there, her attire simple but her mantle anything but. Instinctively, Elkyan went down on both knees.

“That’s not necessary.” Indi murmured.

“We gave you a traditional funeral. I don’t understand. How are you still alive? There’s no way you would have been able to withstand the flame and come out untouched.” Elkyan replied, standing but not daring to look her in the eyes.

“Do I frighten you, Elder Elkyan?” Indi asked.

“You wear a mantle of the gods. You wear symbols of healing. Are you... Apollo?”

“I am Indigo. Goddess of ink. Goddess of healing, music, truth, archery, and the sun.” 

“Then you have assumed his place.” Elkyan replied.

“I am making his position obsolete. He had his healers. They will assist but they will not intervene. Our era will rise. Our people deserve this.” Indi replied.

“Your uh... have you spoken with... uh... Gabriel?” Elkyan asked.

“Really, I just got here.” Indi murmured.

“He’s torn up. Really torn up.”

“Yeah. I figured as much. He watched me bleed out.” Indi replied sarcastically. “It’s not your business, Elkyan. Nip it.”

“Oh er... of course, Goddess Indigo.” Elkyan replied, backing out of it. She watched as Indi disappeared within the throngs of people setting up tents and tables laden heavy with food and drink.


	20. No More God Above All

In fact, she didn’t make an appearance until much later on in the night. The air was ripe with celebration and most of the angels and demons were too fascinated by the appearance of the gods and the whole celebration going on to notice that they were intermingling.

“Gabriel?” Ares mingled through the angels. “Which one of you is Gabriel?” Most of the angels didn’t give him a second glance, just turning and shrugging. Ares wrinkled his nose, summoning his hounds to his side and directing them onto the scent of Indi. Likely he was still saturated in it.

When he turned, he was faced with a trio of angels. “What do you want with Gabriel?” A pale skinned pinched face angel asked. Ares looked among the three angels, before leaning back and crossing his arms. “Get him!” She ordered. The stout angel moved to grab his arm and Ares well enough let him, flicking his arm out to the side and sending the angel flying across the field with a thunderous crash. 

“Try again.” Ares replied. 

“Michael! Uriel!” Sandalphon was across the field in seconds as Michael crowded Uriel back, putting her fists up and readying to fight. Ares raised his eyebrows.

“You angels  _ are  _ tetchy. Perhaps a word of warning to those who will soon become wise. It would be  _ unwise _ to attack the god of war.” Ares murmured. “Go on, you, angel Michael, and attack me. I will show you what the wrath of war looks like.”

“If you goad them, they will only attack you.” Gabriel replied, coming out from the shadows of intermingling with angels and demons. His expression was tired, as if he hadn’t slept at all, and likely hadn’t. “They don’t know how to temper themselves and they were looking for war and lost the chance at having it.”

“Gabriel!” Michael warded him away from Ares.

“It’s alright.” He waved her down. “Heard you were asking for me. I assume the dogs are... yours?”

“Caesar. Brutus. Dominic.” The greyhounds obeyed at his command, sitting down patiently.

“You are? The god of war?” Gabriel answered his own question, running a hand through his hair raggedly. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me. Indi mentioned something about Apollo... so I think by logic that makes you... Ares?” Ares nodded to him. “Gabriel. But I think you already knew that.”

“You need to rest.” Ares murmured, reaching a hand out to steady him. Touching Gabriel’s arm, Ares could feel the weakness there. Gabriel was choosing to waste away. “Here, drink.” Ares offered him a small vial of amber liquid, but Gabriel looked away.

“I watched um... one of your kin, I think, die in my arms.” Gabriel murmured. “You’ll have to forgive me for not being interested in your food or drink.” Ares tipped his head to Gabriel in respect.

“Then I won’t force it on you. Come. Walk with me away from the rabble of the feast.” Ares offered his arm, but Gabriel ignored it, choosing instead to turn away from Ares. Ares raised his eyebrows slightly.

“If you’re looking to convince him to your side, you won’t.” Michael sneered. “He’s better than that.” Ares scoffed. 

“You are all creatures of Ourana, all creatures of the primordial goddess of the sky. But Gabriel has the potential to become so much more.”

“I don’t follow you.” Uriel murmured.

“You don’t?” Ares asked. “How long has it been since you’ve felt the need to eat and drink? Not long? Not many people would so willingly ignore those needs. He refuses it? Only the gods can sit vigil like that. If he refuses much more, he may actually die.”

“And why do you care so much?” Uriel asked.

“Because I put the crown on Indigo myself. Because she’s alive and doesn’t know how to broach the situation. Mates to the gods...” Ares’ mouth twitched up in a small smile. “Well... Gabriel isn’t just any creature though. He’s a former angel, and he’s hurting, and he won’t let anyone help him. I was going to try, but I’ll just return to Indi and tell her it’s a moot point.” Ares replied, turning his back on Michael.

“Can I... come with you?” Michael finally asked. “She... saved my life. I’d like to know if it’s true.” Ares let her walk at his side. She eyed him up and down. God of War versus the Angel of War? He didn’t seem to be anywhere near mawing at the bit for war like she had always assumed.

Ares turned the corner into a more secluded tent where Indi had the rapt attention of the demon Ligur who was hanging onto every word as she chatted away animatedly. There were a cluster of demons around her as she cooked with a rather large wok. Spice was in the air, and Ares snagged a pepper before she could cut into it, chomping down good naturedly before realizing that this was a very, very hot pepper and she was giving him a pointed look.

“What is this?” Ares gasped out, taking his vial of ambrosia and downing it to get rid of the heat in his mouth.

“Something they seem to enjoy. This world calls it a Carolina Reaper. It’s one of the hottest Earth’s got.”

“That is vile.”

“Oh, the God of War has a weakness, does he?” Indi laughed. “You are too much, brother; sticking in your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It’s true...” Michael breathed. “And she’s consorting with, consorting with...”

“Do keep your mouth shut, Michael.” Indi replied. “Sir.” The python lifted its head and stared Michael down until she stepped behind Ares. Indi chuckled, unwinding the python and letting him slither among the demons as she served up hot bowls of rice and meat, drizzling sauce over them in a form that was almost art. 

Ares took a bowl, inhaling deeply before taking a bite. The heat was muted but still there, yet nothing of the vile heat he’d had eating it raw. Even Michael received a bowl. Indi let her hands linger as she passed the bowl to Michael. “I hope you enjoy it.” Indi murmured genuinely, kneeling before Hastur and Ligur.

Ligur followed the suit of Ares, inhaling it before taking a bite. The heat of spice exploded in his mouth-- the wild catch of venison tender and juicy, the rice pairing well and taming some of the heat. Hastur took a tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise.

“This is good.” He voiced it quietly and Indi chuckled, laying a hand against his cheek. He flinched but didn’t pull away as she ran her thumb beneath his eye, across the bone and down his jaw and taking the plagues away from his skin. “Why?” Indi smiled softly.

“I was there.” Indi murmured. “A long time ago. Before you were cast out. Do you remember?” Hastur blinked for a moment, a golden iris coming onto his black sclera. “I cannot undo your falling, but I can make it easier.” Indi murmured. “Do you remember being an angel?” She took out her flute and blew a few notes on it. It seemed to jar something in Hastur. He dropped the bowl but Indi caught it, handing him the flute. He brought it to his lips, taking a breath.

Michael did drop her bowl when he started playing. She recognized the melody. Angels in Heaven hardly ever sang, but Hastur’s song, she knew it like she had once known Heaven inside and out. It had been a song of praise, a song of love.

“Angels. Demons. All the same stock. No more God above all. No more games.” Indi murmured. Ligur smiled.

“I like you.” He murmured.

“I’m spoken for.” Ligur nodded.

“I know.” He replied. “Besides, I’ve got Has, and we’ve got each other. No more games.” Indi stood as Hastur finished the song, laying the flute down. She pocketed it in her extra dimension, calling Sir back to her shoulders as she passed by Michael.

“No more games. No more God above all. Same stock. Brothers and sisters. No more war. It’s time for peace.” She pressed her hand to Michael’s shoulder, and strangely enough, Michael felt just a little bit of that love that her God had always presented to them slip through their connection. She blinked, watching Indi leave.

“Where...”

“Gabriel.” Ares replied.

“How do you?”

“I just do.” Ares replied. “She’s my sister. It’s hard not to know her feelings. The connection between the gods would have been much stronger than what she just imparted to you. Here.” He gave her back the bowl he’d caught when she dropped it. “You’re likely to want to eat something soon or your form will wither to an irreparable husk.”

“Oh... thank you.” Michael murmured, watching him to turn regale the demons with stories of battle. “I guess some things never change.” She murmured, sitting down beside Hastur. He flinched again but she didn’t lay a hand against him.


	21. Memories of a Life Gone Past

Indi found Gabriel away from the crowds, his form prone and hunched over as he leaned against a tree branch overlooking the raging river. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” She asked softly. Gabriel grunted out a reply.

“I’m not interested in your food and drink. Please go away, and tell your other gods to leave me alone.” Gabriel replied.

“Well, I did bring food and drink.” Indi set the basket down at his feet. “But I figured you might be more interested in me.” She found his hand, intertwining their fingers. He stiffened at first but looked up and gasped.

“Indigo! What... but how?!” Gabriel asked, meeting her eyes.

“I told you. I won’t sacrifice anyone to get where I’m going, not even, and especially not, you.” Indi murmured, cupping his cheek softly. He nursed her hand against him, hand covering her own.

“Warm. You’re warm.” He murmured.

“I would hope so. I’m not dying anymore.” She teased softly. Gabriel slightly rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He felt the world begin to spin and his legs went weak.

“Oof!” But Indi had him, walking with him to a more secluded patch of forest and sitting him down. 

“You need to eat or your body will wither.” She murmured. “Here.” She unpacked the basket, something simple; nothing more than bread and what Gabriel assumed was wine and a simple bone broth. “Could I convince you to break bread with me?” She offered, taking a piece and breaking it in half. Gabriel accepted the offering, sinking his teeth into the bread.

_ Why. Why. Why. The question pounded through her mind. Why does she do this to her people? Why are there a chosen people? Why can’t all people be her people? Does she lead them into the desert to starve them? Without food, without drink, their bodies will wither, Ourana? Have you no care of them, or are you really just that cruel? _

_ At the dawn of the next day, the area was covered with a white dew and the Israelites gathered it into their robes and ground it into flour to be baked into bread. Indigo wrinkled her nose, keeping from the sight of the people who she’d followed, pulling her sleeves down and trying to ignore the burning of the quill that dug into her skin, flowy scrawling script writ into existence over and over again. _

Gabriel opened his eyes, chewing and swallowing the piece of bread. “That was...”

“Part of my second incarnation.” Indi looked away, taking a small piece of bread. “Manna. Her people called it manna.” She glanced down at the bread. 

“It’s been sweetened with manna?” Gabriel asked.

“No, I followed the old ways. It’s been dried and ground into flour and baked into flat loaves. Gabriel took another piece, putting it in his mouth and let the flavors sink into him. Sweet, but not honey-rich, not cloyingly so. The bread was hearty, filling, soft inside and crunchy on the outside. He could almost taste the flame that had baked it.

“How do you still have this?”

“It’s origin story is in Olympia. Earth has its own version but the origin story is not as sweet. Ourana wrote what she wanted into existence, every flawed and twisted bit.” Indi murmured. “Did you never dine among her peoples?”

“No, I wasn’t considered to work on Earth so I spent little time here, other than when I was ordered to. Eating still comes a foreign concept.” Gabriel answered. Indi nodded.

“It can take some time to get adapted to the difference.” She sighed softly, opening the clay bowl and dipping a cup into the steaming broth. She set one down in front of Gabriel and one for herself. He recognized the scent, leaning forward to pick it up.

“Will they all come with memories?” He asked curiously. “Does all human food come with memories?”

“Not traditionally. Certainly some foods can jog nostalgia. Memories I think, should come from around the table, from who you dine with and how you share food.” Indi replied. “Mine will. These specifically will.” Gabriel took a breath, blowing on the still steaming broth, before taking a sip.

_ “Why do you bother?” Tzadkiel asked. Indigo offered him a cup and Tzadkiel took it, wrinkling his nose as he took a sip. “Why not let him fall?” _

_“Do your people make it a point to kick those who are tread upon and down on their luck? Because if they do, I already don’t like them.”_ _Gabriel got a chance to see himself, eyes a dark purple sclera, recoiling and hissing as Tzadkiel approached his side. His bloodied and bruised wings towered threateningly towards Tzadkiel._

_ “Angel filth!” Gabriel hissed. “Get away from me, white-winged fiend!” Indigo frowned, touching Gabriel’s cheek softly, imparting a soft stream of golden healing. _

_ “Gabriel.” She murmured. Somewhat the color to his eyes lightened. “Perhaps it would be best for you both if you stayed away, Tzad.” She murmured. _

_ “He’s falling. What makes you think you can stop it?” _

_ “He’s at war. Even the gods of great do not run to battle without a healer at their sides. He needs extra artillery; I can give him that.” Indigo replied, holding a bowl to his lips and letting him drink from it. For day in and day out, she cared for him, attending to his needs with little regard to her own.  _

He rather enjoyed the meaty, salty flavor of the broth, mulling it over and finishing the cup she had presented to him. Indi was quiet, her eyes on him but still far away.

“Indi?” Gabriel questioned softly. Her eyes flickered back into focus.

“I’m sorry. I was far away.” She apologized. Indi gave him a small smile, pouring out a small libation in a laurel imprinted clay cup.

“So little?” Gabriel asked.

“You won’t need much.” She poured herself a small glass, raising it to him. “This is ambrosia. The drink of the gods. With it wounds are healed and strength is returned. I won’t offer it to you idly, Gabriel. It possesses the power to return your immortality to you. All druids soon come into the ability to brew it; it’s what makes the community live so long. I won’t force you into immortality if you don’t want it.” Gabriel looked at the cup in his hand before raising it to her own.

“Cheers.” He murmured, taking a sip and tasting the fruitiness first, before swallowing the rest. He took a breath and heard the rush of a thousand tongues, a thousand peoples pass him by. 

_ Always, always, always... be connected to the gods... to the gods. Gabriel, gabriel, gabriel. _

He realized that it was Indi’s voice he could hear and straightened, staring at her in shock as his body processed the rest of the ambrosia. His hair returned to a more natural color, only very thin slivers of grey remaining, he felt stamina return to him, his eyes brightened to their amethyst hue, and his wings fluttered with strength that begged to be released. Her lips quirked upwards in a small smile.

“What’s the... heat in my stomach?” Gabriel asked. “Something I ate?”

“I doubt it.” She replied. “It’s likely lust, Gabriel. You’ve been denied it, never known it, obeyed your commands like a good little soldier. But now you’re free, really free.”

“How do I fix it?” He asked.

“You don’t. You obey it. It goes away eventually.”

“It’s not a sin?”

“Pfft. Certainly there are rules for the gods, but you aren’t a god, Gabriel. Just as long as you don’t go around causing harm to other people and stay within societal norms, I don’t think anyone gives a damn if you ‘ _ sin’ _ . I know I certainly don’t.”

“Why don’t you care?” Gabriel asked, leaning forward. She met him halfway, noses just barely touching, skin just grazing. 

“I do wonder.” She let her hand cup his cheek, nails digging in suddenly and pulling him the rest of the way in. “I do wonder...” 

_ How do you taste, angel Gabriel? As good as you look?  _ Her eyes darkened hungrily, flicking to his mouth and back up again. He let himself be drawn to her, heeding for once the pull and cupped her cheek as she did his. Hesitantly, he leaned in, closing the gap, and pressing his lips against hers, and he felt it-- it was the same warmth that his god had always projected, but it was much, much more-- and he never wanted to be apart from it. Was this the way that Crowley was drawn to Aziraphale?

He closed his eyes and let his hands slide down her neck and shoulders, down her back to rest in the small of her back, pressing her flush against him. Indi hummed out her appreciation, resting on his leg. She had almost forgotten that Gabriel had almost a good foot on her and he was rather broad shouldered. Being in his embrace was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. They both broke for air; at first neither willing to look the other in the eyes.


	22. Life-mate *Explicit/NSFW*

Their time was cut short by Hastur suddenly bursting through the trees to find their encampment. “Esrafel! My name was Esrafel! And you were the child healer in Egypt with Aziraphale!” Both started at the intrusion, putting distance between them.

“Um, yes.” Indigo murmured. “That was during my second incarnation. I was a child, borne to an Egyptian woman. She wasn’t royalty, but she was still considered valuable to the royals as she was a pagan healer. I was to be following in her footsteps. I had gone to gather water... and you know the rest of the story.” She glanced at Gabriel across the way but his eyes were still on the ground. “Was there a point you were getting at?” Hastur glanced between the two of them.

“Did I interrupt?” His grin was nothing short of devious. Indi’s eye twitched slightly and she rose to her feet. 

“There is such a thing as wearing out one’s welcome, yes.” She murmured. “But two can play your game,  _ Esrafel. _ ” She extended her hand to Gabriel and he took it as she drew runes for a portal on the ground, opening it. “But perhaps you are not the one who has worn out the welcome.” She smirked, stepping into it. Gabriel followed, and the scenery around them shifted.

“Where are we?” Gabriel asked, taking in his surroundings. They reminded him of the garden that his god had tended to reside in, but there were differences-- namely in the fact that this place was built with clear structure and architecture dotted the landscape.

Indi didn’t immediately answer, just finding his hand as she took in a deep breath.

“Even knowing I’m goddess, being here still rocks me to my core. I did actually spend most of my childhood here. Being here is being...”

“Home.” Gabriel finished. “Then this is Olympia?”

“Home is variable term, Gabriel. This is Olympia, yes, my place of origin and birth.”

“Then... what do you call home?”

“Home is where the heart is... and where does it lay, indeed, I wonder?” Gabriel felt heat rush into his cheeks unwillingly. Indi chuckled softly.

“You are flattering me.” Gabriel murmured.

“I don’t consider it flattery. I am only speaking the truth.” She squeezed his hand gently as they walked along the cobblestone path. 

“So this is Olympia. It’s quieter than I would have imagined.”

“Everyone is enjoying the feast of druids.” Indi replied. “They are curious beings, my family.” She led him into her temple and healing springs and cast a druidic shield over it.

“But you don’t intend to? Partake in the feast?” Gabriel asked.

“I wasn’t appreciative of Esrafel’s interruption.” Indi murmured, leading him to her lounge and letting go of his hand to bring food and drink to the tables. Gabriel sat down against one of the chaises, stretching out over it with a low groan. Indi eyed him slightly over the rim of the wine glass in her hand, pouring two and offering him one.

Their fingers grazed ever so slightly as he accepted it. Her touch was electric and he wanted more of it. But he swallowed that thought and took a sip. It couldn’t be prudent! It just couldn’t!

She was a goddess who had returned his immortality; he was an angel who had been cast out of Heaven. She was someone who had seen him at his worst and nursed him through his darkest times, and he had begged for his death the last time he’d seen her. She was selfless, putting her people before her wants, her needs even, almost every time, and he had only ever care about himself and the work of a god who didn’t even exist anymore. He wanted her and she may have told him lust wasn’t a sin, but she could not be touched without him physically injuring her!

Frustrated, Gabriel down the glass without needing to breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he held the glass upside down by its stem.

“Conflicted?” Indi asked. Gabriel raised his eyebrow slightly.

“How in the hells do people get close to you?” Gabriel asked.

“I... don’t understand?” Indi asked.

“You have a ton of allies. Your very personality draws people to you. So how do people get close to you?”

“If you’re looking for consent, Gabriel, you can  _ just _ ask, you know.” Indi replied. “In fact, you really don’t  _ have _ to ask at this point. Not all consent is given verbally.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Gabriel replied.

“I’d invite you to do your worst.” Indi murmured.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Do I?” Indi asked, teasing him. Gabriel growled softly.

“I do know when I’m being made into a joke.” Gabriel grumbled, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

“Wasn’t trying to make a joke out of you, Gabriel. I wanted to incite you into action.” Indi murmured. Instead, she settled her knees on either side of his hips. “But if you really need it, I’ll give it to you.” She whispered, breath hot against his neck.

Lips deftly moved up his neck to his jaw, teeth nipping experimentally up to his ear. “I do consent to you, Gabriel. I consent to your touch-- to your mouth, your tongue, your teeth... I consent to your hands and whatever bruises they may leave. I consent to you and whatever you want to do to me. I consent to your hopes and dreams, to your fears, insecurities, and worst nightmares, to your lusts and most ardent desires, angelos. I consent to you, Gabriel.” A strangled moan slipped through his teeth as he instinctively arched his hips against her. She had the audacity to draw back to smirk at him slightly, before leaning forward again. “I love you.” Indi murmured, nipping against the shell of his ear.

“Yessss... Love me...” Gabriel hissed out as she made her way back to his lips.

“I love you.” She whispered, cupping his face in both hands and kissing him slowly. “You are worthy of love. You are beautiful.” For every statement, another deep kiss. “You are mine. Mine to worship, mine to praise, mine to have and to hold until...”

“Until death do us part.” Gabriel replied. “If you will have me.”

“May Lady Death never part us again.” Indi murmured. “Now, let me worship you, my sweet. Deprived. Angelos.”

“Mmmmm...” Gabriel settled his hands in the small of Indi’s back, letting her nip and suckle along his neck and exposed collarbone.

“Shirt off. Now.” Indi growled, lifting the edge of his shirt. Gabriel followed through with her movement, letting the silken garment pool to the floor. For half a moment, Indi admired his physique. Gabriel was fairly well-built for someone who hadn’t seen combat in decades. Sure, she’d seen him more than half-naked before but being a healer and being a lover were two different affairs.

Her fingertips ghosted over the scar that ran up his middle. It was a relatively flawless scar for all that had been done to him. She remembered the gouge being much more ragged that the simple line that showed on his body. Two uneven but semi-parallel scars matched on either shoulder; she leaned forward to press a kiss to his right shoulder and then his left, and lingered there on his left side, studying the scars.

“Beelzebub.” Gabriel murmured.

“I know. I never really looked to know how severe they were.” Indi replied. “But now I can see how deep they were.” She pressed her fingers up against the two close marks centered on his chest, right about where his lungs were. Gabriel grimaced slightly. “They still pain you?”

“A little.”

“Even with the ambrosia. To think that there was that much damage done...”  _ To think that I didn’t have enough strength to fully heal you at that point... _ Indi shook her head. “A moment, Gabriel.” She rose, briefly leaving her lounge only to return moments later carrying a medicine chest. She opened it and plucked a tin from it.

“This may still sting.” She murmured, opening the tin and scooping some salve onto his chest, rubbing it into the angry red scars gently.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked.

“Salve of dittany. It’s found naturally in Crete on Earth.” Indi replied. “This one, Hecate has imbued with magic. To increase its healing potential.” His scars closed even farther, leaving pink lines in its wake. She wiped the excess away with a warm damp towel, inspecting them carefully.

“Do you enjoy healing?” Gabriel asked.

“It can be difficult at times, but I do find it to be rewarding. Uncooperative patients can be trying. A test of my willpower, I think.”

“You stuck by my side.” Gabriel joked.

“I... enjoy taking care of you, Gabriel.” Indi’s voice was small as she blushed, looking away, appearing to actually make herself look smaller. 

Gabriel took a chance, smoothing the blade of his hand down her cheek. She gave him a small penitent look, and he wasn’t exactly sure why.

“I’m sorry. It’s probably wrong of me.” She apologized.

“To wish me in well health?” 

“I do wish you in well health, Gabriel. I also like to see you, cherubim angel, helpless to my hands. It’s... unbecoming of me and I apologize.” Indi replied, turning away. Gabriel caught her hand and pulled her to his side.

“And who told you that I didn’t like it? It’s nice to be cared for.” Indi arched an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Consider all implications, Gabriel.” He scrunched up his nose, furrowing his brow as he thought about it.

“Oh. Ohhhhh...” It hit him. The realization. The feelings of lust. Not just his, but hers too. The feeling of hunger that pooled in his stomach and could be quenched by mere food or drink. “You like seeing me weak?”

“Not weak, Gabriel. Helpless. Completely dependent on me and whatever I will upon your body.” Indi traced a line from the hollow of his throat to his leggings, hooking one fingers just under his waistband and paused. She glanced up, waiting for his reply.

“I consent to you.” Gabriel murmured. She wasted no time. She let her hand graze against the bulge in his pants and Gabriel shuddered with a gasp.

“I want you. I want to ravage you.” Indi growled. “I want to put you on my throne and worship you, gods be damned. You’re gorgeous, and you’re mine. My mate, mine!” She growled out again, deeper this time and Gabriel could tell that her eyes had darkened into onyx. “Mate. Tars. Sol. Angelos. Gabriel.” She bared the skin on his hip, where his healing runes still lay and kissed the markings roughly, leaving dark bruised skin beneath the markings.

“Throne. Now.” She ordered, and Gabriel couldn’t help but feel more of a stir of arousal, his cock twitching beneath her hand still. Somewhat reluctantly, he stood to make his way to the marble throne. Indi snapped her fingers and it was covered in the softest furs. “Lose the pants.”

“You’re rather bossy for someone who isn’t sitting on that throne.” Gabriel retorted, edging the leggings down to his hips.

“I assume they’re comfortable. I’ll rip them off you with my teeth if I have to.” Indi replied, watching his every move. “If you want to keep them, you’ll lose them.”

“And if I’m two seconds past giving a damn about them?” Gabriel asked, sinking into the plush of the fur laden throne. Indi growled again, kneeling between his knees, dragging her tongue across him anyways, grabbing his waistband between her teeth and tugging down.

“Did you think I was jesting?” She snarled. Gabriel was curious, but didn’t stop her, shivering slightly in being exposed to the cool air. Her hand wrapped around him and she licked one hot wet stripe up the underside of his cock. His hands knotted in the furs as he gasped.

“N-no, n-no... I’m fairly certain this is debauchery.” Gabriel stammered. Indi smirked at him, running her tongue around his cockhead, catching the leaking drops of precum.

“Sweet, angelos. I was wondering how you tasted.”

“Nngh!” Gabriel bit down on his hand as he watched her lick against him.  _ This is sin. This is sin. _

“Can’t be but so much of a sin, Gabriel. Your god wrote about it. The gods have performed much more debauched acts, but tasting you, knowing you so intimately?. No, Gabriel, this is heaven.” Indi murmured, finally taking him into her mouth. He held back a shout. Gabriel needed to focus his hands somewhere else or he was going to bite right through his hand. He slumped in the throne, forcing his hand away and knotting it tightly in Indi’s hair. She made a surprised noise but never stopped, even when his nails dug in and hand pressed down hard against her. She laughed at that, taking him all the way down her throat, choking against his length, but never once breaking.

“Hff!” He came without warning, legs trembling as white hot pleasure raced through his body, a thrill on end that ended with his cock jerking against the back of her throat. Indi grimaced slightly, pulling back and continuing to stroke him until he was finished. When Gabriel finally opened his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Indi’s face. “I... um... I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“But I... all over your...”

“Believe me, Gabriel, that is the least of your concerns right now.”

“W-why?” Gabriel asked. Indi looked to her hand, still keeping Gabriel at full erectness. “I thought you said... that it wouldn’t be a problem. This... that... that is a problem!”

“What makes you think I’m done with you?” Indi asked. She stood slowly, straddling his lap yet again and kissing him deeply. Tongues tasted tentatively before diving in and Gabriel was lost in a sea of lust again. He didn’t have the time to be worried about offending Indi. He let his worries go, and his hands were tangled in her hair and she was rocking against him needily, kissing him all the while. 

Her words weren’t even audible. He heard them in his mind instead.  _ Gabriel, want. Gabriel, need, crave. _ The whimpers and whines were hers, he deciphered, against the tangle of limbs and sounds that filled the room. He tugged her shirt over her shoulders, throwing it to the floor. With the flick of her wrist, she had bared herself before him. The warmth of her body sank into his skin and he let his hands wander. Gender wasn’t an issue in heaven. Angels didn’t typically copulate. Michael presented as female but wasn’t... now that he thought about it, he realized that he didn’t want to actually know. He had a more pressing task at hand, and that was the woman in his arms.

“Indigo.” He breathed. He would never get enough of feeling her warmth against him. She wasn’t cold and she was here. He locked his arms around her shoulders, keeping her close against his chest, just holding her there. It seemed to shake her for a moment.

“Gabriel?” 

“I just... need a minute.” Gabriel replied. “I just need to hold you. Need to touch you. Need to feel your warmth.” She let herself relax in his embrace, closing her eyes and touching her hands to his cheeks, cupping his face. Thumbs soothed across his cheekbone and down his jaw. She stilled, imparting to him the depth of her love, getting the sense that he needed it.

Gabriel felt an overwhelming wave of warmth rush towards him, if it could, seeking out the darkest parts of his mind and chasing it out, nesting in every crevice. Surprised and more than mildly aroused by his mate’s sense to comfort him, his wings unfurled against the throne, primaries and secondaries both. “Ohhhh...” 

“Can I?” Indi asked.

“Yes.” Gabriel murmured, closing his eyes as her fingers touched down amidst feathers.

“Soft.” Indi whispered. 

“Need... Need to be preened.” Gabriel replied hoarsely. “They need to be preened.”

“Do you want me to...”

“Please.” Gabriel begged. She moved from his lap, snapping her fingers to make the floors around them covered in plush furs and pillows. Gabriel knelt to the floor, letting her move through the feathers, straightening out the strong ones and moving the weaker ones out.

“Do you use a gloss oil?”

“N-no, angels lack the preening gland that is in most birds, if that is what you are speaking of.” Gabriel stuttered. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let anyone preen him. She moved to the medicine chest again, uncapping a bottle and pouring the oil into her hands, massaging it into his wings and at the base of his wings, where they connected to his back and shoulders. He couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. Yes, his wings were brittle and dry. He’d never given thought to oiling them. Almost involuntarily, his hand closed around his cock, stroking himself. The combined sensations had him drooling and around the base of his wings where the skin was tender, Indi especially paid attention. Gabriel, however, did not pay attention and Indi ducked when his wings spasmed out, jerking sharply. Gabriel, having chased a sensation and caught it, hand dripping white with cum, remembered to take a breath, and then remembered that Indi was behind him. 

“Enjoying yourself?” She teased, breath on his neck, nipping slightly. “I’d say you did.”

“I’m...”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll remember that you like your wings oiled.” Indi murmured, the hint of laughter in her voice. “Coming into one’s sexuality isn’t just having a partner. Solo play is just as important. Get to know what you like.”

“It isn’t...”

“No.” She cut him off gently, coming around to hold his hands. “Knowing yourself is good. Knowing what you like and don’t like guides me to be a better partner.”

“I can remember that.” Gabriel murmured softly. “And you? Your lust has not been tamed.”

“I will always want you, Gabriel. My lust is a wildfire, bound and determined to consume anything to get to you. If you still want, certainly. If you don’t and want to wait, certainly.”

“I said it to you once and I’ll say it again, mate.” Gabriel thought the word sounded unfamiliar but went with it. “You are good people. So selfless. If more were like you...”

“The world would be a better place.” They finished it together. Indi smiled, resting her forehead against Gabriel’s.


	23. Life-Mate Part 2 *Explicit/NSFW*

“You know, I probably should have done this a long time ago.” Gabriel murmured, picking her up as he stood.

“What’s that?” Gabriel pinned her up against the back of the throne, wrapping her legs around his waist. He dove for her mouth, cupping her head so that she wouldn’t throw it back against the marble of the throne. He let his other hand keep one leg wrapped around his waist.

“My turn.” Gabriel growled. He didn’t give warning, biting down hard into her shoulder, drawing blood. “This scar belongs to me!” He was furious. Yes, the slit scars on his shoulders came from the Crown Prince, but they’d fucking bit his mate and he was going down damned if he was going to let her walk around with the imprint of Beelzebub’s teeth in her skin.

“Oh, fuck, Gabriel!” Indi bit her lip. That was unexpected. Not entirely unwanted. It still stirred desire. She steeled herself as Gabriel bit down harder. “I really can’t imagine that that tastes pleasant.”

“It doesn’t.” Gabriel growled. “But when you heal yourself, you’ll be marked by me and not that damn Crown Prince.” He snarled, drawing himself away and spitting blood on the floor. He wiped his mouth on his arm, cleaning his teeth. The taste was unpleasant, yes, but such things he would sacrifice. Blood sluiced down between them.

“They say that a mating union among gods is best made in a pact of blood.” Indi remarked. “If you are interested in binding yourself to me, truly.” She hooked Gabriel’s chin with one finger, bringing his eyes to her. “I am willing to let you go, Gabriel, while you are coming to terms with yourself. But make this pact, and you will lose everything when you break it. Make sure that I am the desire within your heart.”

“I would rather die.” Gabriel murmured fiercely.

“Bold words.” Indi was actually taken aback some. “You want a union in blood?”

“I do.” Gabriel replied. She lowered her finger to the hollow of his throat, twisting slightly to open a small channel where his amethyst ichor streamed out. 

“I want you, Gabriel.” Indi murmured. “Take me. Make me yours. I want to belong to you.” Gabriel growled softly, pressing Indi against the throne. She guided him to her entrance, slick with wetness and blood. He pressed himself inside with snarl. Heat enveloped him. Gods, she was warm, wet, wanting for him. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving with him as they rocked together, Gabriel thrusting in long strokes, enjoying her little breathy moans, occasionally punctuated with his name.

Her ichor was black and it twisted around Gabriel’s, tasting it, testing it, before joining with it, turning into a dark violet indigo. Her eyes rolled back into a solid gold sclera. “Oh Gabriel...”

“Indigo.” He breathed. He’d never quite seen her undone like this. He could feel her nails digging into his back, drawing ichor with every inch but at the moment he didn’t care, finding his pace and sticking to it. She repositioned herself slightly, arching against him and just absolutely screaming out his name as she came.

* * *

Ares jerked his head in the direction of the scream. Michael had the most perturbed look on her face as he glanced around. “Do you mind?” Michael asked, wrapping a sheet around her naked body.

“I wasn’t done.” Ares murmured.

“Obviously.” Michael replied. “I’d like to finish.” 

Ares scoffed. “So cocky, Angel of War.” But he laid back down between Michael’s legs.

* * *

Gabriel roared out his reply, feeling drained as he came again, closing his eyes to savor in the moment of Indi still quivering around him. When he opened them again, he saw the dark ink spattered against the throne.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly.

“Just ink. Wings. Comes out too, you know.” Indi murmured, opening her eyes to find Gabriel, slightly less Gabriel the man she knew and a little more biblical angel. “You’re uh... cherubim.” He opened his eyes, taking her tone of voice to be... fear... awe... he wasn’t really sure. She withdrew for a moment, circling him, curious. “Can I... touch?” She asked softly.

“If... you want to?” Gabriel asked, quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in his cherubim form. Her fingers were gently, running through the thick mane of his lion’s head, touching skin beneath to curiously run the length of his jaw, tickling whiskers along the way. They moved on to coarse oxen fur and thick horns, rubbing at the top of his head; then moved again to his feather eagle head standing proud and tall, smoothing his beak and into his crown, before finally facing him again. He looked uncomfortable.

“You never bare it?” She asked.

“Ah...” He shifted from one hoof to another uncomfortably. “No. It may take a moment to uh... go away.”

“You’re beautiful in all your forms, Gabriel.” Indi kissed his cheek softly. He blinked once or twice.

“Cherubim were guardians of El Shaddai. We weren’t meant to be known for our beauty.”

“All the more reason to tell you you’re beautiful, Gabriel. You are worthy of love, no matter what form you take. I will always love you. And I know that you were writ to be a guardian; I was there for that too. But, I think that’s it’s time that I defended you, don’t you think?”

“I...” Gabriel blushed. “That would be nice.”

She cupped his cheek softly, and his form flickered, leaving him the mere image of a man again, wings still remaining. “I love you, Gabriel, angelos.”

“I love you, Indigo.” Gabriel replied, pressing his forehead to hers. They sank to the floor together, covering themselves in furs as they slumbered.


	24. The End Is Only The Beginning

Hera walked through the encampment of druids but saw no sign of Indigo among her peoples. She had heard the sound of her (as had many gods) but she was nowhere to be found.

“Where is Indigo?” Hera asked, standing in the threshold of Ares’ tent.

“Christ!” Michael swore, pulling the sheet up to cover her nudity. Ares didn’t budge one bit.

“Olympia.” Ares replied, not in the least bit daunted that his mother was in the doorway. “Michael, my mother Hera. Hera, Michael.” Hera nodded briefly to Michael as she left.

“She’s your mother!? And you just! You didn’t even!!!” Hera smiled as she left them to their own doings.

Olympia. She had thought she’d felt a union of blood but wasn’t sure. Now there was no doubt of it. Mates to the gods were rare. Ares was just promiscuous. They didn’t usually take life-mates... but Gabriel and Indigo... what they had was to be cherished.

* * *

Indi and Gabriel made their way back to Earth just before the druids were gathered to return to their normal duties. “Indigo.” Ares greeted her.

“Ares. Settling are we?” Indi asked, gesturing to Michael who was not far from his side.

“Perhaps. You seem to have a good thing going. We may make further discussions before we attempt to bind ourselves as you have.” Ares replied. Indi smiled, taking Gabriel’s hand with her own. “Your druids are looking for you. You are needed to close this gathering.”

“One of my many tasks.” Indi replied, bowing and letting him leave.

Despite being stopped half a dozen or more times over the course of making their way to the Legate’s tent, Indi and Gabriel made good timing, and Indi slipped through the tent as Gabriel waited outside.

“Goddess Indigo.” Elkyan knelt.

“There’s no need for that.”

“What happens to the angels and demons now?”

“They assimilate. There’s nowhere left for them to go.” Indi replied. “We welcome those into our faith that want to be here. We let the others go. They are powerless without their god.”

“Do you wish to close the gathering?” Elkyan asked. Indi shook her head. 

“It’s not my place. Gabriel and I will remain on Earth. When war comes around again, you will find us.” She murmured, slipping away. Elkyan found them in the back of the crowds as she made their closing remarks. They were among one of the last to leave the field encampment. 

Crowley and Aziraphale hung around back as Indi made sure that no belongings were left behind. She picked up a leather bound book from a circle burned into the ground. Indi marked it carefully, laying stones in a pattern. She stood, holding the book to her chest.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s the story of Earth. It’s the true story. The one that was writ in ink and blood, the one that was writ onto me.” Gabriel briefly remembered the story of her second incarnation and the freedom of the Israeli slaves from Egypt. “Combined with the history writ from this gathering... it will be kept in Olympia. Such books often can possess such dark magic. Best it not wander into wrong hands. Athena...” The goddess simply nodded to her and took it as she passed by. “Athena, the goddess of wisdom.”

“So where are you off to now?” Crowley asked. Indi shrugged.

“I cannot go back home. The man who raised me would not understand our world. And you? Back to Soho?”

“I...” Crowley looked to Aziraphale. “Perhaps we will find somewhere to settle.” 

“Then take this, and consider it a parting gift.” Indi murmured, pulling a bottle of her speciality oil (something that she had learned specifically from tweaking Gabriel’s wings) from her bag. “You may find it helpful.”

“The world is yours, Gabriel. Where do we go?”

“Where indeed.”


	25. Fast Forward Bonus

_ Flash forward two decades later... _

It has taken years for everyone to get comfortable in a new environment. Some angels and demons were unable to cope with the change. Some demons are now resting uncomfortably from behind the bars of prisons where they caused just one too many havocs and the humans caught them; some angels are living it up the best they can, because they only get one lifetime on this Earth and its a human lifetime now, and they just. can’t. stop. 

But as for those that were folded into the druid faith, they retained their immortality. Many of them had to work hard to obtain and learn how to brew the ambrosia to the perfection it needed to be to keep them young and immortal. 

Hastur and Ligur stayed together. They got married and moved to the United States, where Hastur owns a music shop and Ligur sells reptiles on the side. 

Ares married Michael in a ceremony in front of the gods. Indi and Gabriel attended it. They gave Michael a new weapon, a nice white war hammer, and Indi slipped Michael a book on what to do if he ever cheats. As far as wedding gifts for Ares, Indi gave him a spiked collar and handed Michael the leash. Ares had just laughed while Michael seemed more than bewildered.

Crowley and Aziraphale settled down in the South Downs, buying a cottage that Aziraphale had always looked at but never bought. Crowley surprised him one year by building on a massive extension to house all of Aziraphale’s books. Aziraphale had given him a sunning room the year prior. They weren’t married on paper, but everyone around them knew they were married at heart.

The druidic Legates were never far apart. Elkyan, Preston, and Jacey stayed on the original encampment site, buying the land of it and the land around it, turning it into a permanent fixture. They often held educational gatherings and offered brush-up courses and extended education on higher classed potions, spells, and magic.

As for Indi and Gabriel, they visit Olympia from time to time and check up on the others in passing chance. They travel a lot to other countries as healers, but when they aren’t traveling, Gabriel produces herbs, spices, and medicinal plants for druidic use, while Indi occasionally communicates with the druid Legates. They live on their own private island off the coast of South America, happily alone.


End file.
